Title: The Power of the Mind
Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Theme: 3) magically-facilitated non-con/dub-con (i.e. love potions, lust spells, Imperius curse, etc.)
Warnings: No more than the prompt suggests. Harry is underage.
Word count: 1003
Summary: The beauty of Imperius….
A/N: Takes place during the year of OotP.
Thanks to islandsmoke and Charmed310 for their help with this. Y'all rock ;O)




The beauty of Imperius, Snape has always thought, is that, for someone with his power and ability, words are rendered superfluous. Merely forming an image in his mind and then impressing that image upon the victim subject is enough to have them bend to his every wish.

Control of his mind has always been paramount in his life, and although he’d knelt in fear at the feet of the Dark Lord repeatedly, he had never once broken; never once let his control slip. How ironic that the one person to penetrate his defences most grievously would be…

Potter.

Green eyes flash for a moment, then dull as the spell takes hold. Historically, Potter has been able to throw off the spell, but any carefully-thought-out plan entails lengthy and detailed preparation, and even Potter is no match for him, especially after Snape had let slip a Wit-Dulling philtre into the boy’s morning pumpkin juice.

Those eyes.

Lily’s eyes.

Snape has the boy strip and then lie face down over his lap, the riotous black hair and developing body so reminiscent of another Potter that he has this one cry delightfully while being spanked, making such delicious noises as he writhes in Snape’s lap, sounding as though he’s almost begging for his punishment, the hot young body inflaming Snape’s passion as no one ever has.

And he takes his punishment well, as Snape expects him to; indeed, demands that he does with merely the force of his will.

Dumbledore’s favourite as his hand descends over and over.

Golden Gryffindor the skin blooms delightfully pink

Worthless wretch Potter’s groans turn to moans at Snape’s insistence.

Snape’s cock throbs as Potter thrusts against him, and the sensations are delicious, yet not enough. With little more than a thought, Potter slides off Snape’s lap and kneels before him, waiting as Snape stands and opens his robes, the boy’s face so close to Snape’s groin that he can feel the faint puffs of breath on his cock. Snape sends him a mental image, and, without a word, Potter tilts his head back and opens his mouth, choking slightly as Snape feeds his cock into his mouth and over his tongue, stretching his lips obscenely as he takes the length into his mouth.

Snape pushes until the tip of his cock nudges the back of Potter’s throat. Imperius is so delightful in the way it works; he even controls the boy’s breathing while completely negating non-essentials like the gag reflex. Still, Potter doesn’t make his tongue work on the bottom of Snape’s cock in quite the way he wants, so he lifts part of the spell while simultaneously binding Potter’s wrists and ankles and then freezing him in place. As the spell eases, Snape can see the moment that realization hits.

Potter eyes almost bug out of his head, and he struggles to pull back, but can get nowhere. He gasps around Snape’s cock and Snape snaps his hips forward, once, hard.

Potter’s eyes start to water as he chokes and coughs.

“Suck.”

The spell is still strong enough to easily overpower Potter’s will, and so he does, inelegantly, hurriedly, saliva dripping from his mouth over Snape’s cock and down his chin, but even though it’s not quite enough to pull Snape’s orgasm from him, the boy does an admirable job. Snape looks into those green eyes, and, despite himself, he’s suddenly close.

“Enough!”

He’s surprised to hear his own voice, for words are not needed. Still, he feels a rush of power as Potter tries to struggle against his imprisonment, only to be subdued again by the force of Snape’s spell.

No, Snape must fuck the Potter right out of the boy, leaving only Lily‘s essence, Lily… his one true love.

He will free her from Potter at last.

With a firm hand on the back of Potter’s neck, Snape pushes until the boy’s face is buried in the rug - Snape cares less how well the boy can breathe like this - and he makes Potter hold himself open, knees spread wide, back arched impossibly, lightly-furred bollocks and cock swinging, his fingertips making white indentations along the skin of his arse cheeks, a stark contrast to the pleasing angry red.

Snape mounts him without delay, plunging into the tight hole and relishing the tug as Potter’s channel squeezes and drags along his length, hot and clenching the harder and faster and deeper he thrusts. At first, the boy makes no sound - Snape wants no interruption to this, and only his own harsh panting breaths fill the air, but once he establishes a rhythm, he lifts the spell slightly and revels as Potter bucks against him, thrashing and diving, straining against Snape’s iron grip on his hips.

No, the boy will not escape, Potter will succumb… Lily….

Snape is suddenly close, thrusting blindly, mindlessly, and his climax rips out of him with blinding force, scattering along his spine and stuttering his breaths as he slams in one final time, stilling his hips and emptying himself into the body beneath him.

He takes longer than expected to catch his breath, yet the body beneath him still shudders with what can only be the remnants of pleasure. Sure of his success, certain that Lily is finally his, he withdraws gently and turns her face to his, slowly savouring the moment he can gaze once more into her eyes…

…burning impossibly green, less glazed than before, and that’s the moment…

“CRUCIO !”

The pain burns through Snape’s body with lightning speed, more powerful even than the Dark Lord’s best efforts, fuelled by what can only be Potter’s extreme rage and hate. The caster has to really mean it, after all, and now he sees only Potter’s face, no hint of green any more in the narrowed eyes beneath furrowed brows.

His mouth opens in a silent scream as his body burns and his final thought is that his Lily would never hurt him, but Potter... Potter always had the capacity to kill him.