venomous
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Summary
Maybe Harry was a bit of a masochist. Not in the traditional way, mind— he didn’t exactly want to be on the bottom like that. But sometimes, he wanted things he couldn’t have. He wanted Malfoy in ways he couldn’t have.
Occasionally, Harry thinks about what it would be like. He collages together these flashes— these glimpses of what Draco might be like, if he was in charge. He’d be scornful, and demanding, and fucking rude, and the thought of it made Harry so damn hard. He wanted Draco to turn it on him properly, that mean, nasty side he knew still lurked under the surface.
Harry wasn’t a masochist, but he wanted Draco to be a proper shit to him again.
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“Do you know where we are?” The man asked gently. Harry shook his head.
“We’re at Grimmauld Place. Your house,” The man said slowly. “You get to decide who comes inside your home. Do you recognise me?”
Harry stared at him. His eyes were a familiar grey. Harry knew this man. He just didn’t know how.
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Alone in his bed like this, with the hangings around his bed drawn and a Muffliato cast, he could admit to himself that he wanted Malfoy. In his sick, twisted way, Harry wanted him.
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there'll be no more dinner bells (left for you to ring) by venomous
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
15 May 2024
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Summary
Of course it was about sex. Where Draco was utterly shameless, Harry was a ball of neurosis and discomfiture. Not while they were fucking— when they were having sex, Harry was the picture of confidence, took Draco like it was as natural as breathing. But talking about sex outside of sex was something else altogether.
Draco knew where it came from.
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Summary
Harry and Malfoy are playing a game.
It always starts in the worst way.
Series
- Part 2 of strange constant blue
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