CONTROL

Author: l'Ciel Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: SS/LM Rating: hard R, disturbing content Warnings: slash, general harshness, darkfic Summary: A view into Sev's mind, songfic to POM-Control Disclaimer: J.K.R. and Puddle of Mudd, whoever own that stuff!

AN: not suitable for fluff-loving sweet bloods!

Control

Puddle of Mudd

I love the way you look at me

I feel the pain you place inside

You lock me up inside your dirty cage

Well, I'm alone inside my mind

I like to teach you all the rules

I get to see them set in stone

I like it when you chain me to the bed

But then your secrets never show

I need to feel you - you need to feel me

I can't control you - you're not the one for me, no

I can't control you - you can't control me

I need to feel you - So why's there even...

I like the way you rake my skin

I feel the hate you place inside

I need to get your voice out of my head

'cause I'm that guy you never find

I think you know all of the rules

There's no expressions on your face

I hope that someday you will let me go

Release me from my dirty cage

I love the way you look at me

I love the way you smack my ass

I love the dirty things you do

I have control of you

I need to feel you - you need to feel me

I can't control you - you're not the one for me, no

I can't control you - you can't control me

I need to feel you - so why's there even you and me?

-

Is that what comes of it, when you refuse to let me go and I am too weak to fight you? When I, in stead of shoving you away, claim your sweet mouth and bruise your sinful lips with my hard kisses, when I clutch my hands into your long hair and press you up against the wall. When I loose control and slam my hips into yours, arousals rubbing together. When we have hard, rough sex in an dirty alleyway behind the 'Monkey' and you whisper obscenities into my ear, urging me to take you harder.

You love to submit to me, but on the same, you are in charge. You hold the reins and I am your willing slave, when your tight ass, your ravishing mouth and your skilful hands drive me insane, night after night, when one duty is over and the other has not jet begun.

Sometimes I wonder, if your wife can smell me on you, when you return home to your little son and family, if she recognizes the scent as mine.

You never tell.

On my part, I know nobody awaits my return. My bed is cold and empty, apart from the nights you are there, and those are very rare. I know we don't have time to be cosy, but sometimes I cannot help it, but imagine what life would be like without them: the duties, your family, the aurors, the death eaters, the reporters and the landlord, who I still am unable to pay. I know you could give me the money and you would, but you also know I won't take it.

I'm not your whore.

I'm your lover.

At least for a few hours a month, when nobody sees.

R&R, L'Ciel