The Dark Lord's PlaythingAuthor: fangqueenCharacters/Pairings:
Tom/Abraxas, Abraxas/Unnamed Female Character (background)Rating:
Analingus, Orgasm Delay/"Edging"Other Warnings/Content:
Canon Divergent, Sex Magic, Sex Potions, Dom/sub, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Dub-con, Forced Kinks, Implied Safe Word Noncompliance, Infidelity (Abraxas/His wife)Word Count:
Tom would let him have his "special" night. But after that, they had a score to settle.A/N:
I was first turned on to this pairing by a lovely little piece yeaka
wrote for this community awhile back, and I've been itching to try them out ever since. So here's to my first fic for this ship! These two thoroughly fulfill all my dark and twisted fantasies, and I love them for it. ;) Oh, and yeah, on that: just as general disclaimer, if you're looking for something fluffy and lovey-dovey, you won't find it within a hundred miles of this fic. Don't say I didn't warn you.
It was a stylish affair, but one shouldn't have expected any less from a Malfoy wedding. From the ceremony space with its carpet of roses, white marble, and gold trimmings, to the reception hall with its mile high ceilings and crystal chandeliers, to the stately hotel the guests had been put up in, it was clear it had been planned by people of quite wealthy means. The bar was stocked to bursting with free, top shelf liquor, and the food had been catered by one of the most famous chefs in wizarding England. What with how everyone couldn't stop gushing, it was certainly going to be a wedding that would go down in infamy. And Tom Riddle couldn't have been more miserable if he'd tried.
As a groomsman, he had been assigned a seat with the rest of the wedding party. Several of them were married off themselves, and they and their spouses had already chattered noisily about the splendor of the venue, the flowers, the tableware, to the point of giving him a migraine. It disgusted him to see that even his own men were reduced to romantics amidst all this blush and tulle.
The room may have been littered with many of his cohorts that had caught his attention with their uncharacteristic antics, but in reality, Tom was only there for one man that night. While the others oohed and aahed over the entree being set before them, he finally allowed his gaze to shift to the sweetheart table at the head of the hall. As if he could sense it, his counterpart immediately responded likewise.
Their eyes locked for the first time that evening. Tom had been purposefully avoiding it, allowing the other man whatever bliss he might've garnered from this tragically sappy day. Of course it had absolutely nothing to do with how much weddings―and this one in particular―tended to sour his own mood. When they finally did look at each other, now, the faux smile he'd been wearing the entire day fell from Abraxas' face in an instant, replaced with an expression that would've been unreadable to anyone else. Tom knew what it meant, and he nodded in return, affirming his comrade's curiosities.
Yes, Tom would let him have his "special" night. But after that, they had a score to settle.
"P-please, Tom," Abraxas begged, his voice raw and ragged, as if each syllable was a struggle.
Tom merely smirked. It was a delight to see him at his wit's end like this, a sight that Tom hadn't had the pleasure of viewing as much as he'd prefer in recent months. There'd been so much to do for the wedding that it had monopolized the vast majority of Abraxas' time, and then there'd been the honeymoon as well. What the former had intended to occur directly after the date in question, was now happening a whole four weeks later. Still, much as it had frustrated him to wait, it had given him extra time to perfect his potion work, which seemed to have paid off thus far.
"P-please, I...I need to come...Please l-let me come…"
The walls of Malfoy Manor had heard him utter much filthier things, but not with as much desperation. Tom felt a wave of pride swell in his chest. Abraxas, proud as he was himself, was naked and pliant for him in a way he'd never been before, bent with his face pressed to the exquisite―and expensive ―carpet of his own study. His bare arse was on full display for anyone that might've accidentally stumbled upon them, but luckily for them, they'd taken care to schedule this rendezvous for a night when his new wife was visiting her parents, their house elves had been dismissed early, and no such thing was possible.
And the pièce de résistance, the bit of torturous fun Tom had conjured up for them this evening...Behind Abraxas floated a blue mist that lapped at his exposed hole, tendrils wrapped around his thighs to hold him up and open for it. Something Tom knew was a favorite for his lover. Although tonight he was prevented from enjoying it thoroughly, for a time, as Tom had fed him a potion earlier that had been designed to bring him to and keep him at the edge for as long as it remained in his system.
This was his punishment, for leaving him for that cow, for marrying her when his Lord had expressly forbid it! No one was ever to touch him but Tom, and he would've done well to remember it. Still, he supposed appearances had to be kept up, in these times. Purebloods had to stick together, and create more
purebloods, and that was something that their two bodies were not capable of producing together. He forgave him, if only because he didn't want others to start asking questions about the amount of time they spent in each other's company. But he wouldn't let Abraxas know that just yet.
"Oh, you need to
, do you?" Tom whispered mockingly, coming to kneel in front of his partner. He traced a finger along Abraxas' jawline, tucking a damp lock of hair behind his ear. "Don't worry, pet. This potion should be wearing off soon, and then we'll move on to the next part of my experiment." Abraxas emitted an animalistic whine in response. Tom laughed. "If you're not enjoying this, you know all you have to do is say the word."
Abraxas' eyes flashed dangerously, and his upper lip curled into a snarl. But then the phantom tongue behind him must've done something particularly wonderful, because by the next second, his eyes were rolling back into his head, his mouth falling open on a gasp. He wouldn't dare say it, not now, not when they both knew that this was supposed to be his penance for his indiscretion. Doing so would only get him something worse, something he definitely wouldn't enjoy at all. With Tom, a "safe word" was never all that safe...Besides, he was
enjoying this. That was plain to see, as he arched his back, trying to force the magic deeper into him.
"That's what I thought."
Tom watched as Abraxas moaned again and rolled his hips. The effects of the potion should, indeed, be waning soon; he hadn't been lying about that. It was obvious, too, in the way his lover's reactions had begun to shift. For a brief moment, Tom saw a glimpse of it in his mind, of Abraxas being similarly vulnerable with that…woman
, and it turned his vision red. The blonde yelped as Tom suddenly yanked him up to balance on his hands, cupping his face with more force than was probably necessary.
"Have you consummated the marriage yet?"
Abraxas looked up at him with clouded eyes, as if he was floating far off in some other plane of existence entirely. Tom knew he'd heard him, however. Although he didn't respond, the answer was clear. He should've expected nothing less, and yet...Jealousy simmered in his veins.
"You're only going to bed her as is needed. You're going to get her pregnant, you're going to produce an heir, and then that is all
, do you understand? You're mine..." The endearment he added to the end of that statement came as a hiss, and although Abraxas didn't speak the language himself, he'd heard it enough times now to understand its meaning.
Something deep within Abraxas broke in that moment. He was shivering hard enough to twist something now, his breath coming in increasingly lustful pants. Tom pulled back just in time to see how his fingers curled against the carpet, turning his knuckles white. The last remnants of the potion had left him, as he was suddenly rushing towards orgasm harder than Tom had ever seen him. It had clearly bowled over him quicker than he'd expected, as when his jaw dropped open in the shape of a cry, no sound accompanied it, choked off as it was somewhere in the back of his throat. Eventually, the strength in his arms finally gave out, and Tom displayed a rare moment of compassion as he caught him and pulled him into his arms. Abraxas clung to him as if he might drown otherwise. Tom's long fingers closed around the other man's cock, encouraging his release, even as it sprayed the dark robes he still wore.
"She will never bring you this much pleasure. Remember that," Tom whispered in his ear, the only other sound in the room now being Abraxas' labored breathing against his chest. "I'm the only one who can take care of you this way."
Their lips met in a sloppy, heated kiss. Tom was forced to remind himself of patience. Abraxas looked so debauched like that...But no. He would have his moment as well, in due time.
An hour later, and the patch of carpet in front of him was already thoroughly doused with his seed, but Abraxas was still humping into his hands like he was in heat. The second potion that his lover had given him had taken over his libido, providing him with climax after climax with little signs of drying him out. This he appeared to enjoy much better than the first round, but that was exactly the idea: it was his reward, for enduring the retraining, of sorts, that Tom had administered in the beginning.
Abraxas gasped as another orgasm overtook him. His come spurted out in thick ropes to join the rest, a final drop lingering on the reddened tip. Even then, his hands never stopped moving, already chasing yet another. It was in that moment, as it had been in all the others, that he looked up at Tom with a kind of reverence shining in his glassy eyes.
Oh, to think: if his wife could see him now...
Tom watched him from his perch at the edge of the desk. He licked his lips and spared a brief moment to squeeze his painfully erect cock through his robes. However, he reminded himself, once again, to be patient. In time, this potion would wear off as well―and when the time came, and Abraxas was once again supple and bent firmly towards his master's will, he'd finally allow himself to take part. Until then, he was happy to enjoy the view.