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1
Scorpius had been in love with his father for as long as he could remember. It was a messy, intoxicating blend of hero-worship, deep dependence, and forbidden desire. As he grew older, that fire only burned hotter, consuming him from the inside. Draco Malfoy — elegant, cold, powerful, yet secretly fragile — was the center of Scorpius’s entire world. He’d secretly watch water droplets slide down his father’s bare chest after a shower, listen to Draco’s quiet sighs in the middle of the night, and fantasize about those long, elegant fingers touching him.
Everything changed on the night of Scorpius’s eighteenth birthday.
The bedroom at Malfoy Manor was lit by soft, flickering candlelight. Scorpius’s heart pounded like a drum as he pushed open his father’s door. Draco was leaning against the headboard reading, wearing nothing but a silky robe that had slipped open slightly. His silver-blond hair was tousled. He looked up, gray-blue eyes flashing with surprise.
“Scorpius? It’s late. What’s wrong?”
Scorpius didn’t answer. He walked over, dropped to his knees beside the bed, and grabbed his father’s hand with trembling fingers.
“Father… I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Draco froze, but he didn’t pull away. The air between them grew thick. After a few tense seconds, Draco let out a low sigh.
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I know,” Scorpius replied, his voice steady but filled with that raw, teenage urgency. “I love you… not just as a son.”
That night, Draco didn’t refuse him. Maybe it was the loneliness that had haunted him for years, or maybe it was the burning adoration in his son’s eyes. Whatever it was, he pulled Scorpius into bed.
When Scorpius first pushed inside his father, he was almost reverent — slow, careful, and gentle. He’d used plenty of lube and only went halfway before stopping, terrified of hurting him. Draco’s body was so tight and scorching hot that Scorpius nearly lost control, but he clenched his jaw and held back.
“Scorpius…” Draco breathed, reaching back to stroke his son’s spine. “You don’t have to be that careful, I—”
Scorpius shook his head, pressing his forehead against Draco’s shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you, Father.”
Draco gave a soft, breathless laugh, thinking his inexperienced son just didn’t know any better. The careful way he was being treated stirred something strangely tender inside him. He wrapped an arm around Scorpius’s waist and gently guided him deeper.
“Like this, silly boy… deeper. Relax. Yes, just like that… now move slowly.”
He taught Scorpius how to angle his hips, how to hit that perfect spot. Draco’s voice grew rough and shaky with every instruction: “Right there… fuck— harder… yes, good boy…”
Scorpius’s face burned as he followed every word. At first he stayed cautious, but under Draco’s guidance he grew bolder, thrusting deeper and harder. Draco’s moans became uncontrollable. His fingers dug into Scorpius’s shoulders as his “instructions” turned into broken gasps and desperate commands.
“Deeper— Scorpius— yes, fuck me just like that… ah!”
When Scorpius finally buried himself completely inside his father, the tight, wet heat nearly made him come on the spot. He growled and started thrusting harder, one hand stroking Draco’s leaking cock while the other braced on the bed. He kissed him frantically — lips, neck, chest — whispering between thrusts.
“Father… I love you. I’ve always loved you like this…”
Draco’s body shook with every powerful thrust, legs wrapped tight around his son’s waist. The proud Malfoy heir was completely lost, utterly conquered by his own boy.
They went for hours. Scorpius came inside him again and again while Draco taught him everything — how to use his mouth, how to fuck him from behind at the perfect angle, how to whisper filthy things in his ear right as he came.
When it was finally over, Scorpius held his sweaty, exhausted father close and kissed his forehead. Draco, flushed and satisfied, murmured sleepily against his chest:
“You learn fast… my good boy.”
Later, once Draco had fallen into a deep, contented sleep, Scorpius stayed wide awake. The obsessive love and possessiveness inside him burned like wildfire.
He pulled out something he’d prepared earlier — a smooth, silver remote-controlled vibrating egg. He coated it generously with lube, then gently spread Draco’s cheeks. His father’s hole was still flushed and slick from their earlier sex. Scorpius’s heart raced as he slowly pushed the toy inside. Draco let out a soft, unconscious whimper and clenched around it, but didn’t wake.
“Father…” Scorpius whispered, eyes dark with lust.
Once it was seated right against his prostate, Scorpius grabbed the remote, moved back a little, and just watched his sleeping father.
He started with the lowest setting.
A faint buzz filled the room. Draco’s brow furrowed. His breathing hitched and his cock slowly hardened again in his sleep. Scorpius smiled.
He turned it up.
Draco finally stirred, letting out a sleepy moan. “Mmm… what… Scorpius?”
He tried to roll over but froze when he felt the steady vibration deep inside him. His eyes snapped open, face instantly red.
“Scorpius… take it out—”
“Don’t move,” Scorpius said softly but firmly, grabbing his wrist. “Just feel it.”
He cranked it up to medium. The egg began pulsing and rotating harder. Draco bit his lip, back arching, trying to hold back his moans.
“Scorpius… you… ah—!”
Scorpius kissed him deeply, stroking his father’s cock while switching the patterns — steady vibration, sudden intense bursts. Draco’s proud face completely fell apart, tears of overwhelming pleasure forming in his eyes.
“You’re so sensitive, Father… even after you already came, you’re hard again.”
Draco’s hips twitched helplessly, caught between wanting to escape and wanting more. When Scorpius finally pushed it to the highest setting, the toy went wild inside him.
“I’ve wanted to make you cry like this since I was little,” Scorpius growled against his ear. “You’re mine now. Let me hear you.”
Draco shattered. He came hard again, shaking and sobbing with pleasure, cum spilling between them. Scorpius kissed away his tears, turned the toy off… but left it inside.
“Let it stay in tonight,” he whispered, holding his trembling father. “I’ll fuck you properly again in the morning.”
2
The next morning, the egg was still snug inside Draco. Scorpius kissed his forehead with a wicked smile.
“You’re going to that Ministry meeting with it still in you, Father. I’m going to Albus’s house. You won’t be bored.”
Draco’s face went pale, but he had no choice. He dressed in his formal dark robes, trying to use a spell to keep the toy still, but every little movement made his legs weak.
During the meeting, Harry Potter — of all people — was sitting right next to him. Not long after it started, the egg buzzed to life on the lowest setting.
Buzz…
Harry tilted his head. “Malfoy, what’s that buzzing in your pocket? New Ministry gadget?”
Draco clenched his jaw, nails digging into his palms. “Shut up, Potter.”
But the vibrations grew stronger, pressing perfectly against his prostate. His thighs pressed together. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He bit his knuckle hard, trying not to moan.
Harry kept leaning in, genuinely concerned. “You look terrible. Are you sick? Want me to pause the meeting?”
Scorpius and Albus, meanwhile, were laughing back at the Potters’ house. Scorpius handed Albus the remote with a grin.
“Here. My dad’s definitely suffering in that meeting right now. Your turn.”
Albus’s eyes lit up. He immediately cranked it to the highest setting.
“—!!”
Draco nearly collapsed. The egg went into overdrive, pulsing and spinning violently inside him. He barely managed to stay in his chair, biting down on his fingers to muffle the desperate sounds trying to escape.
Harry’s eyes widened. “Malfoy, it’s getting louder! What the hell do you have in there?!”
Draco’s eyes were wet, his body trembling. He was right on the edge, fighting for control in front of everyone.
3
When the meeting finally ended and everyone else left, only Draco and Harry remained. Draco was gripping the table so hard his knuckles were white. He tried to stand but his legs were jelly. The egg was still going full blast, driving him insane with every pulse.
Just leave, Potter. For fuck’s sake, leave…
But Harry stayed, looking suspicious.
“Malfoy, you’ve been acting weird the entire meeting. Spill it. What are you up to?”
Draco’s voice cracked. “Potter… stay away from me…”
Suddenly the vibrations turned into brutal, relentless pulses. Draco folded forward with a choked moan, nearly knocking the table over. He slapped a hand over his mouth, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Harry stepped closer. “Are you sick? Cursed? Should I call a healer?”
Draco was seconds away from coming. “Potter… please… just go…”
Instead, Harry stayed put, watching him intently.
Albus locked the remote on maximum.
Draco finally broke. Right there in front of Harry, he came hard — biting his fingers to stay quiet as his cock pulsed and cum soaked the inside of his robes.
Harry’s eyes widened in shock, then darkened with a mix of anger, disbelief… and unmistakable arousal. He grabbed Draco by the wrist and yanked him up, slamming him face-down onto the table.
“You fucking slut,” Harry growled, flipping up Draco’s robes. The silver egg was still buzzing wildly inside his flushed, dripping hole. “You sat through the whole meeting with a toy in your ass? Right next to me?”
Draco could only whimper, legs shaking.
Harry didn’t bother pulling the toy out. He shoved his own hard cock in alongside it in one brutal thrust.
“Ah—!” Draco cried out, voice hoarse and broken.
Harry fucked him hard and fast, the table creaking beneath them. “So fucking filthy… You get off on this? Sitting in meetings with a toy in your ass, getting wet for anyone to notice?”
Every thrust pushed the vibrating egg even deeper against Draco’s prostate. He came again and again, sobbing and shaking, cum splattering across the table.
Harry finally buried himself deep and came with a low groan, biting Draco’s ear.
“Next time you decide to be a whore in a meeting… I’ll fuck you in front of everyone.”
Draco lay sprawled across the table, spent and trembling, cum and lube leaking down his thighs… lost, humiliated, and secretly craving more.