Tomarry One Shots

Kinks in my back

Summary: Tom Riddle is the epitome of jealousness. That extends to not allowing anyone other than himself to touch Harry. That proves to be a problem for both of them when Harry desperately needs a massage for his exhausted body and Tom doesn't want to put in the manual labour. Tom gets Harry a massage chair and things escalate from there.

Ship: HarryPotterxTomRiddle

All credit goes to The_Sapphire_Potterhead on Ao3

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The work of being a constant figurehead for the wizarding world was surprisingly exhausting and unsurprisingly boring. While the boredom disappeared after a while, the bone-deep exhaustion and fatigue didn't. Harry's shoulders, back and legs were always sore and begging for some relaxation. Harry tried massaging himself, but the awkward positions left other parts of him stiff. Asking Tom to put his hands on Harry and put his back into giving his loving boyfriend a massage was suicide, so that's how Harry found himself with a large massage chair.

It was bulky and made of leather. The matte black colour reminded Harry of a pair of tight leather pants that had Tom salivating for his ass. It looked really similar to an armchair except for the fact it had two cylindrical parts coming out of its front where his legs were supposed to be.

Harry walked closer to the muggle contraption. The leather was supple under his fingers, yet still rigid enough not to give in. He let out a staggered exhale. He traced sensual paths alongside the armrests, the back, then the front. On the left armrest was a small screen to choose the time for the massage. Harry sat on it. An instant low groan escaped past his lips, the expensive material making space for his arse before hugging him with its supple leather. He wriggled in the seat, loving the feel of the cosy armchair despite still having clothes on. His dick began to swell the more Harry let himself drown in the embrace of the armchair.

He opened his eyes, slowly. He hadn't even started the massage and he already had a half-hard dick in his pants. At the thought of what was about to happen, a shiver went down his spine. Not even his fumbling with the muggle screen did anything for his arousal to go down.

Once he finally set a timer for ten minutes, he pressed the 'start' button. The next moment, the chair slowly bent low, going down until Harry's back was in a more relaxed position than the stiff back-straight one. A small whine escaped past his bitten lips. His eyes were closed tight, wanting to drown himself in the sensations just like his body seemed to drown in the leather all around him.

Finally, the armchair began to vibrate. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan and arched his back, only to remember to settle down again so he wouldn't miss any of the thrilling new action.

After the initial vibration, the chair began to beat his back like rocks were hitting his back. He dug his nails in the brand-new leather before his arms relaxed like all the fight left his body. He surrendered himself to the rocky massage, letting out staccato groans through it as his expression turned into one of pure bliss. The powerful punches straightened his back right and rightened his stiff shoulders, feeling like he had never worked a day in his life. Then, the leg massagers started as well, tightening and moving over his overworked legs.

The worst part so far was that he couldn't take his legs back from the massage chair's hold, and even that was still fabulous. It didn't matter how much he twisted and turned them, the cylinders didn't budge. Normally, when he had sex with Tom, he was a kicker. He moved his legs from side to side, twisted his ankles, hugged Tom's waist before spreading his legs wide. Even in his sleep he moved and kicked his legs! But now, his only option was to twist and turn his ankles, and it was simply pathetic.