disclaimed.
rated MA. if you don't know what that is, or what it implies, please click the back button. if you dislike homosexual relations, i must ask why you paired Tom Riddle Jr. with Harry Potter under Romance.
flames are welcome. they give me more reviews.
song fic one-shot. song: "Haunted" by Evanescence.
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Harry ran through the corridors of an empty Hogwarts, breaths coming out in harsh puffs. The rational part of his mind reminded him that there was no reason for him to be so panicked, even if Voldemort himself was chasing him. And yet, even that thought caused his heart to pump that much faster, the adrenaline to spike in his bloodstream, and his mind to break down into primal instincts.
Forcing himself to slow, to quiet his steps, he faintly heard the battle raging outside the ancient castle; it was the reason why the stone structure was empty but for himself and his chaser. A roar from a giant was dim when he was this deep into the bowels of Hogwarts, but heard nonetheless.
Backing down the corridor, straining his ears - which only heard his own heart pounding and heavy breathing - he tried to locate the Dark Lord, he suddenly he found the man, by backing into his chest. He froze, terror sweeping through his mind. But was scared him more was the thin ribbon of lust snaking through the horror, making his face burn.
Long lost words whisper slowly to me
Still can't find what keeps me here
When all this time I've been so hollow inside
I know you're still there
Arms snapped up around his body, pinning his arms to his sides. One pale hand knocked his holly wand away, and the other cupped his throat, but, surprisingly, didn't attempt to choke him. Only held him there.
Harry swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple bob against the Dark Lord's spider like hand. His cock stirred when he felt the body of his archnemesis press flush into his back.
Lips brushed his ear, and Voldemort whispered, "Harry...you foolish boy." He tutted softly, squeezing the Boy Who Lived's neck gently. "You really should watch where you're going."
Harry stood still, his heart thumping heavily, a fact both he and the crimson eyed Tom Riddle could feel in his neck. "So panicked. So fearful..." The lips dipped to touch his shoulder, nose pressed to Harry's neck to inhale the heady scent of the adolescent. "And yet, Harry, I smell arousal."
Harry closed his eyes, tears springing forth as his face burned hotter. "T-tom..."
A chuckled filled his ears. "I know you want me, Harry."
Eyes flying wide open, the last descendant of the Potters knew it was true. He didn't know when it had started, but he had begun to wank to images of pale skin and crimson eyes, to the sound of dark hisses, to the imagined feel of being dominated almost brutally. Wanking to the thought of being pleasured of Tom Marvolo Riddle. And sometimes he wasn't pleasured; sometimes he was used like a whore by the Dark Lord, left unsatisfied and covered in the man's spunk. He had been shocked when he realized what he wanted, but he was never one to deny himself the truth about revelations. He wanted Voldemort, for whatever sick, insane reason.
Ever since he had been wanting his nemesis, he had felt empty almost. He wanted no other, and even began to try to think like the evil man, to see his side of the war. To justify himself liking the man? To have a plausible reason of joining him? Oh yes, Harry wanted to join him. Sometimes he still disgusted himself, but that was rare these days...
Watching me, wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you, loving you
I won't let you pull me down
"Say it. Tell me you want me, Potter." Harry's breath hitched.
"And what do I get if I do?"
Tom's laugh reverbrated through his chest into Harry's. "Thinking like a Slytherin, we are. You will get this." Using his right hand, the hand not cupping the boy's throat, Voldemort pressed his erection against the younger male's arse.
Harry moaned, pressing back wantonly. "Yes, bloody hell yes. I want you, Tom. I want you, I-" The viridian eyed boy gasped for air as he was pushed into the wall, shivering at the cold stone against his heated cheek.
Tom wasted no time undoing the boy's trousers and pushing them down. Then he murmured in his silky voice, "I'll only ask this this one time: do you wish to face me or the wall?"
"You," Harry whispered. He was spun around, and greedily watched as Voldemort shed his robes, leaving him in a pair of slacks and a blood-red shirt. Harry drank in the image of the teenage Riddle; he had seen this form in fifth year at the Department of Mysteries, and it was this form that haunted his fantasies.
His erection twitched in the cold dungeon air as Tom undid the buttons on his slacks, releasing his throbbing cock. Harry moaned softly at the sight of it; it was thicker and longer than he had imagined, and he felt a strange sort of dreadful excitement at the thought of Tom thrusting it into his body.
He looked up from beneath his thick lashes, emerald meeting garnet, and Harry instinctively bared his neck, spreading his legs as wide as his half-on pants would allow. A feral growl was all the warning he got before his legs were lifting above the stronger man's shoulders, and then searing pain filled his arse and shot up his spine as the Dark Lord thrust in to the hilt.
Hunting you, I can smell you - alive
Your heart pounding in my head
Keening, Harry clenched his eyes shut, tears leaking from them. Tom stilled, making this allowance just this once. The pain slowly subsided for the younger male, and he whimpered, wiggling. Tom hissed softly, pulling out and thrusting in, eliciting a cry from the Boy Who Lived; he didn't stop this time, and instead thrust harder, growling as Harry's hands flew to his hair and tugged. Suckling on the boy's neck, Voldemort angled upward, pulling a delectable scream from the teen's mouth as he hit his prostate gland.
Tom snarled in satisfaction, pounding into that spot. Mewls and cries filled his ears, and Harry arched his back from the wall, cumming on his and Tom's front.
Watching me, wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Saving me, raping me
Watching me
Harry whimpered as Tom pulled out, leaving him feeling empty. Then he was turned, almost gently, to face the wall. His chest pressed to the cold stone and his arms stretched above his head like a cat, he shivered as his arse was caressed by smooth hands. Fingers brushed over his angry red hole, his cock springing back to life as the over sensitive nerves were stimulated. Then the hands were gripping his hips in a bruising sort of way, and the thick, hard cock was thrust back in. Harry cried out in satisfaction, whimpering as the Dark Lord once again found his sweet spot and mercilessly pounded into it.
Tom hissed something Harry didn't catch in Parseltongue, but it must have been a spell, because he suddely felt everything manifold, his nerves screaming at every tiny movement. Another was hissed out right as Harry was about to cum for the second time, and the teen felt something clamp around the base of his cock, stemming his release. The green eyed boy sobbed, whimpering for release.
The Dark Lord chuckled, thrusting deep into the boy beneath him. "What do you want, Potter?"
"Please! Please, Tom, Tom...cum. Let me cum. I'll do anything, just please...Ah!" A hand swept up his spine, under his shirt, and the cries spilling from his mouth became more frantic.
"Anything, Harry?"
"Anything! Please, please, Merlin please!"
Tom stopped, making Harry keen in displeasure. Leaning over him, the crimson eyed man suckled on the smaller raven's neck. "Would you be my whore? My little slut? The one to pleasure me when I want it, how I want it?"
"Yes, gods yes!"
Tom smirked, before renewing his movements, with a new, almost frantic energy. Harry screeched in pleasure, hands scrabbling across the stone wall as Tom bit into his neck. With a wave of Voldemort's hand, the spell inhibiting Harry's release was removed, and the boy screamed Tom's name, the Dark Lord thrusting into the spastically contracting orifice thrice more before spilling his seed into Harry's body, moaning lowly.
Pulling out of the Gryffindor, Tom watched him crumple to the ground. He was the epitome of innocence slain; emerald eyes still glazed in post-coital haze, chest heaving and splatter with spunk, his own cum trickling from the boy's arse, limp on the ground.
With a smirk, Tom waved his wand, cleaning them both and redressing them - or, in Harry's case, dressing him in naught but leather pants and collar, a leash attached. Murmuring a quick accio for Harry's wand, he coaxed the Potter up, leading him by the leash out to the world.
Watching me, wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you, loving you
I won't let you pull me down
The war was over. The Dark Lord Voldemort had won.