Fic: No More Good Guys - HP Dark Arts 2013
Title: No More Good Guys
Author: winterdaffodils
Rating: Hard NC-17, per the warnings
Pairing(s)/Character(s): ??/Draco, [Harry/Draco]
Word count: ~1580
Warnings (Highlight to view): * [Non-con viewed as possible expected dub-con by one of the participants, kidnapping, assault, violence, references to past Draco/OFC and OMC/Draco/OFC, semi-epilogue compliant: Harry is married, possibly Americanized Draco]*
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.
Summary: Aurors are trained to handle even these sorts of situations but there are scenarios they don't cover in the textbook.
A/N: Much love and adoration to my teapot who didn't smack me when I said I had entered even more fests, who only ever demands that I write more. And to our mods, I've had a ton of fun with this type of fest, much less stress than the others and that's huge. Thank you for taking the time, I know real life gets in the way of better things.
This is one of those stories that leaves you scratching your head wondering where it came from but I love the ending [angst whore that I am] and hope you do as well and enjoy it as much as you can.
The title is taken from Skindive's 'No More Good Guys', it had the perfect feel and attitude and came to me when I should have been sleeping.
Draco returned to consciousness slowly, his eyes blurry to the point of myopia, his mouth dry and beyond dank, and the worst hangover headache he'd ever experienced pounding sharply between his temples.
He lay his head back down gratefully. The blond had no idea where he was but he could deal with the aftermath of a drunken one-off when he could see more than a few inches in front of his face and think about more than the idiocy of getting black-out pissed.
Except, he hadn't gone out drinking last night.
Draco pushed himself up only to stop with an awkward jolt. He could only go so far before restraints around his wrists jerked tight. He tried again. The same for his legs.
Draco's eyes opened, raking over what bit of the room he could see. Plain, nondescript, wholly unfamiliar and completely unidentifiable.
He sucked in a deep calming breath, centreing his mind and definitely not caring that he was bound naked in an unknown place. He was an Auror, he could handle this. Even if in the end it was only being done to him because he'd been a Death Eater.
It had always been just a matter of time, no matter what Harry Potter had touted to the press. Sodding optimistic Gryffindors...
“No, no,” he whispered to himself, rubbing his face into the pillow. Harry hadn't let him down as a partner yet and would probably be the only one who could rescue him before things went from bad -chained bare arsed to a bed - to worse - getting fucked to death in said bed. Heroic prat.
“He better fucking hurry.”
All those years at school he'd never been able to rely on Harry but three years as partners had shown him what it might have been like if he had.
A door beyond his peripheral vision opened with a loud grind of metal on metal.
Draco stilled immediately, letting himself go limp in feigned sleep. He just had to wait it out.
Strong fingers wrapped around his bound ankles, squeezing them before moving up his calves, testing the muscles as one might a newly purchased horse.
He tensed as the bed dipped, warm skin pressing against his as the person knelt between his splayed legs.
“I know you're awake,” a deep voice whispered, those evaluating fingers sliding up to grasp his thighs. “Those tailored slacks you wear do your legs no justice. I've dreamed about wrapping these thighs around me.” He squeezed them again. “Strong enough you could fuck yourself on my cock for hours.”
Draco couldn't stay silent as the man's hands grasped his arse. He jerked as far away as the bed and his restraints would let him, biting out a string of curses that would impress even Weasley.
Those hands didn't stop, cupping and kneading Draco's tensing arse no matter how many threats he issued. “I'll find you, you sorry arsed piece of shite,” he swore.
A whispered spell had him gagged, the knot tight against the back of his head, unmoving no matter what Draco did. That didn't stop him cursing the man's ancestors and progeny, lips drying and threatening to crack at the corners from the rough material.
“Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?” The man lay himself across Draco's back, rock hard and wet, and more than proving his intent.
Draco grunted and shook his head, mouthing something back though even he had no idea what it was.
“Ever since the first day you came in bragging about your single life. About the bird who tied you to that chair and rode you until you came so hard you thought your balls might burst out of your eyes.”
Draco's head jerked up, twisting to see something of his attacker. Only his fellow Aurors had been privy to that story, or any of the others. But all he could see above him was dark hair.
Sharp teeth nipped over his back and shoulders while those fingers flexed, exposing his hole before hiding it only to open him up again.
“But do you know when I knew I could have you?” he hissed close to Draco's ear. Thick fingers spread his arse cheeks wide.
Draco shook his head, eyes flicking around the room for something that would stop this, delay it until the Aurors arrived.
“The minute you told us about the twins. The bloke who fucked you while you fucked his sister.”
Draco's eyes widened painfully and he shook his head, mumbling denials into his gag. Didn't he know those stories were all made up? Lies to make the other Aurors jealous of his solitude when really he envied their intimate relationships?
“I've been waiting years to fuck you, Draco,” he whispered, tongue tracing Draco's parted lips.
Grey eyes snapped open to meet familiar green before a slick cock pressed into his unprepared entrance.
Draco screamed into his gag as Harry Potter took his virginity.
Draco thought the pain had to end eventually - as his body adjusted or it became enjoyable, something to make all those poufs do this - but second by second, thrust by thrust it only got worse.
Tissues that had given or torn during Harry's first thrust swelled and ached, tearing more as the other man pressed inside of him again.
Draco had stopped screaming hours ago it seemed, his throat too raw for him to carry on when so much of his being was focused on what his partner was doing to him.
He shook as Harry thrust inside of him, fingers and toes going numb. Bloody spit from his splitting lips soaked into his gag, covering the snot and tears he would deny until the day he died.
He screamed inside of his head as he prayed for Harry to go away.
Harry's hands passed over all of him that he could reach, caressing Draco's tensed arms and legs, petting his sweaty hair.
Draco wished he could bite him, that he would just finish and leave him to die.
A horrible thought blossomed in his mind and Draco shuddered as he gave in to the sense of it.
Harry moaned loudly when Draco rolled his hips into the next thrust. “Oh yes, that's it,” he gasped as he gripped Draco's hips to drag him back harder and faster.
Draco sobbed, burying his face in the pillow to hide the constant tears as Harry's jerking pulled his wrists too far.
He screamed again when his right wrist gave in to the pressure and snapped, sliding easily out of its bindings though all he could do was cradle it to his chest.
Harry's movements became frantic, the snap of skin meeting skin loud in the empty room.
Draco grit his teeth in his gag as each meeting jarred his wrist. He whispered to himself, promising it would be over soon, that Harry wouldn't last much longer, that it was all a dream and he would wake up safe in prison. He prayed for Azkaban.
“Fuck, fuck, Draco,” Harry panted in his ear, digging his teeth into Draco's shoulder as he began to come.
Draco took it as calmly as he could. It was over. Harry would have to kill him now and it would finally be over. He heaved a grateful sigh and lowered his head onto the disgusting pillow.
He shied away from the hand that slid down his stomach to stop at his soft cock. It didn't even twitch in vague interest at the soft caress.
“You didn't come,” Harry whispered.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Draco grunted. Or some garbled version thereof, what little sound came from his throat to give it voice.
Harry fondled him more, ignoring Draco's uncomfortable shifting. “You're not even hard.”
Draco just shook his head, wondering how Harry had made it through the academy. How he'd never noticed what a fucking moron the Boy-Who-Lived was.
Gentle fingers untied his gag and pulled it out of his mouth, laying it on the bed beside him. Draco watched it guardedly, waiting for Harry to tie it in his mouth and take him again.
His breath hitched painfully as Harry slid out of him and released the spells holding his ankles. He pulled them against his body slowly, curling into an awkward ball.
“Draco?”
He refused to look at Harry, laying with his left hand still bound but positioned to cover his face.
“I thought you liked this.”
Draco shook his head, his arms, his whole body started to shake.
Harry summoned a blanket and a glass of water.
Draco drank it carefully, grimacing around each swallow. “N-nev...no.”
“You've never done that?”
Draco shook his head again. “Any-thin'.”
“Never done anything? You were a virgin?”
Draco nodded, dragging the blanket closer.
“Your stories?” Harry asked cautiously.
“Lies,” Draco whispered.
The way Harry's face crumpled made Draco feel marginally better. Except there was still blood on Harry's flaccid cock. His blood. And Draco hated him all the more.
“Just kill me, Harry,” he pleaded, voice sounding like gravel. “You can't let this come out.”
“I'm taking you to St. Mungo's,” Harry answered, summoning his clothes. “We'll tell them it happened on a mission.”
“On a mission,” Draco whispered, laying his head down to hide a fresh wave of tears.
Originally posted at hp-darkarts
Author: winterdaffodils
Rating: Hard NC-17, per the warnings
Pairing(s)/Character(s): ??/Draco, [Harry/Draco]
Word count: ~1580
Warnings (Highlight to view): * [Non-con viewed as possible expected dub-con by one of the participants, kidnapping, assault, violence, references to past Draco/OFC and OMC/Draco/OFC, semi-epilogue compliant: Harry is married, possibly Americanized Draco]*
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.
Summary: Aurors are trained to handle even these sorts of situations but there are scenarios they don't cover in the textbook.
A/N: Much love and adoration to my teapot who didn't smack me when I said I had entered even more fests, who only ever demands that I write more. And to our mods, I've had a ton of fun with this type of fest, much less stress than the others and that's huge. Thank you for taking the time, I know real life gets in the way of better things.
This is one of those stories that leaves you scratching your head wondering where it came from but I love the ending [angst whore that I am] and hope you do as well and enjoy it as much as you can.
The title is taken from Skindive's 'No More Good Guys', it had the perfect feel and attitude and came to me when I should have been sleeping.
Draco returned to consciousness slowly, his eyes blurry to the point of myopia, his mouth dry and beyond dank, and the worst hangover headache he'd ever experienced pounding sharply between his temples.
He lay his head back down gratefully. The blond had no idea where he was but he could deal with the aftermath of a drunken one-off when he could see more than a few inches in front of his face and think about more than the idiocy of getting black-out pissed.
Except, he hadn't gone out drinking last night.
Draco pushed himself up only to stop with an awkward jolt. He could only go so far before restraints around his wrists jerked tight. He tried again. The same for his legs.
Draco's eyes opened, raking over what bit of the room he could see. Plain, nondescript, wholly unfamiliar and completely unidentifiable.
He sucked in a deep calming breath, centreing his mind and definitely not caring that he was bound naked in an unknown place. He was an Auror, he could handle this. Even if in the end it was only being done to him because he'd been a Death Eater.
It had always been just a matter of time, no matter what Harry Potter had touted to the press. Sodding optimistic Gryffindors...
“No, no,” he whispered to himself, rubbing his face into the pillow. Harry hadn't let him down as a partner yet and would probably be the only one who could rescue him before things went from bad -chained bare arsed to a bed - to worse - getting fucked to death in said bed. Heroic prat.
“He better fucking hurry.”
All those years at school he'd never been able to rely on Harry but three years as partners had shown him what it might have been like if he had.
A door beyond his peripheral vision opened with a loud grind of metal on metal.
Draco stilled immediately, letting himself go limp in feigned sleep. He just had to wait it out.
Strong fingers wrapped around his bound ankles, squeezing them before moving up his calves, testing the muscles as one might a newly purchased horse.
He tensed as the bed dipped, warm skin pressing against his as the person knelt between his splayed legs.
“I know you're awake,” a deep voice whispered, those evaluating fingers sliding up to grasp his thighs. “Those tailored slacks you wear do your legs no justice. I've dreamed about wrapping these thighs around me.” He squeezed them again. “Strong enough you could fuck yourself on my cock for hours.”
Draco couldn't stay silent as the man's hands grasped his arse. He jerked as far away as the bed and his restraints would let him, biting out a string of curses that would impress even Weasley.
Those hands didn't stop, cupping and kneading Draco's tensing arse no matter how many threats he issued. “I'll find you, you sorry arsed piece of shite,” he swore.
A whispered spell had him gagged, the knot tight against the back of his head, unmoving no matter what Draco did. That didn't stop him cursing the man's ancestors and progeny, lips drying and threatening to crack at the corners from the rough material.
“Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?” The man lay himself across Draco's back, rock hard and wet, and more than proving his intent.
Draco grunted and shook his head, mouthing something back though even he had no idea what it was.
“Ever since the first day you came in bragging about your single life. About the bird who tied you to that chair and rode you until you came so hard you thought your balls might burst out of your eyes.”
Draco's head jerked up, twisting to see something of his attacker. Only his fellow Aurors had been privy to that story, or any of the others. But all he could see above him was dark hair.
Sharp teeth nipped over his back and shoulders while those fingers flexed, exposing his hole before hiding it only to open him up again.
“But do you know when I knew I could have you?” he hissed close to Draco's ear. Thick fingers spread his arse cheeks wide.
Draco shook his head, eyes flicking around the room for something that would stop this, delay it until the Aurors arrived.
“The minute you told us about the twins. The bloke who fucked you while you fucked his sister.”
Draco's eyes widened painfully and he shook his head, mumbling denials into his gag. Didn't he know those stories were all made up? Lies to make the other Aurors jealous of his solitude when really he envied their intimate relationships?
“I've been waiting years to fuck you, Draco,” he whispered, tongue tracing Draco's parted lips.
Grey eyes snapped open to meet familiar green before a slick cock pressed into his unprepared entrance.
Draco screamed into his gag as Harry Potter took his virginity.
Draco thought the pain had to end eventually - as his body adjusted or it became enjoyable, something to make all those poufs do this - but second by second, thrust by thrust it only got worse.
Tissues that had given or torn during Harry's first thrust swelled and ached, tearing more as the other man pressed inside of him again.
Draco had stopped screaming hours ago it seemed, his throat too raw for him to carry on when so much of his being was focused on what his partner was doing to him.
He shook as Harry thrust inside of him, fingers and toes going numb. Bloody spit from his splitting lips soaked into his gag, covering the snot and tears he would deny until the day he died.
He screamed inside of his head as he prayed for Harry to go away.
Harry's hands passed over all of him that he could reach, caressing Draco's tensed arms and legs, petting his sweaty hair.
Draco wished he could bite him, that he would just finish and leave him to die.
A horrible thought blossomed in his mind and Draco shuddered as he gave in to the sense of it.
Harry moaned loudly when Draco rolled his hips into the next thrust. “Oh yes, that's it,” he gasped as he gripped Draco's hips to drag him back harder and faster.
Draco sobbed, burying his face in the pillow to hide the constant tears as Harry's jerking pulled his wrists too far.
He screamed again when his right wrist gave in to the pressure and snapped, sliding easily out of its bindings though all he could do was cradle it to his chest.
Harry's movements became frantic, the snap of skin meeting skin loud in the empty room.
Draco grit his teeth in his gag as each meeting jarred his wrist. He whispered to himself, promising it would be over soon, that Harry wouldn't last much longer, that it was all a dream and he would wake up safe in prison. He prayed for Azkaban.
“Fuck, fuck, Draco,” Harry panted in his ear, digging his teeth into Draco's shoulder as he began to come.
Draco took it as calmly as he could. It was over. Harry would have to kill him now and it would finally be over. He heaved a grateful sigh and lowered his head onto the disgusting pillow.
He shied away from the hand that slid down his stomach to stop at his soft cock. It didn't even twitch in vague interest at the soft caress.
“You didn't come,” Harry whispered.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Draco grunted. Or some garbled version thereof, what little sound came from his throat to give it voice.
Harry fondled him more, ignoring Draco's uncomfortable shifting. “You're not even hard.”
Draco just shook his head, wondering how Harry had made it through the academy. How he'd never noticed what a fucking moron the Boy-Who-Lived was.
Gentle fingers untied his gag and pulled it out of his mouth, laying it on the bed beside him. Draco watched it guardedly, waiting for Harry to tie it in his mouth and take him again.
His breath hitched painfully as Harry slid out of him and released the spells holding his ankles. He pulled them against his body slowly, curling into an awkward ball.
“Draco?”
He refused to look at Harry, laying with his left hand still bound but positioned to cover his face.
“I thought you liked this.”
Draco shook his head, his arms, his whole body started to shake.
Harry summoned a blanket and a glass of water.
Draco drank it carefully, grimacing around each swallow. “N-nev...no.”
“You've never done that?”
Draco shook his head again. “Any-thin'.”
“Never done anything? You were a virgin?”
Draco nodded, dragging the blanket closer.
“Your stories?” Harry asked cautiously.
“Lies,” Draco whispered.
The way Harry's face crumpled made Draco feel marginally better. Except there was still blood on Harry's flaccid cock. His blood. And Draco hated him all the more.
“Just kill me, Harry,” he pleaded, voice sounding like gravel. “You can't let this come out.”
“I'm taking you to St. Mungo's,” Harry answered, summoning his clothes. “We'll tell them it happened on a mission.”
“On a mission,” Draco whispered, laying his head down to hide a fresh wave of tears.
Originally posted at hp-darkarts