That's what the boy smelled like.

In all his years, Voldemort had never smelled something so..so intoxicating. Something that made his mouth water like a man in a desert finally finding his oasis.

He leaned down to bury his nostrils in the boy's scent gland. His eyelids fluttered closed as he took in a deep breath. His tongue darting out to lap at the tan, sweat ladden neck of the boy.

His right hand curled around the boys waist while his left raked into his hair, pulling his head to the side so Voldemort had more access to the delicious neck.

His thumb caressed the boy's hip, trying to cajole him into relaxing to his touch.

His teeth bit down on the extended skin, his lips felt the bounding pulse beneath it. He wrapped his lip around it and sucked, trying his hardest to bring the hot blood into his cold body.

The boy shuddered, a delightful moan escaping his lips. His alpha growled in pride, he had made the beautiful omega feel good. He-

"My lord?"

Voldemort's head snapped toward the voice. The voice of his follower, in a tone that was unmistakably utter confusion. He had to shake his head, trying his best to clear his mind of the lust clouding it as his alpha raged at being separated from the soft omega before him.

He took a step back, and then another, creating distance from the being clouding his judgment. He heard panting and a soft whine, and his attention focused back on the lovely creature.

The boy's soft, lovely face was flushed. The bruise upon his neck highlighted by the moonlight. His eyes were half lidded, from undoubtedly happiness from finding such a strong alpha. The boy took a deep breath, opened his eyes more and searched up his alphas body until it landed on Voldemort's face.

The little omega tensed again. His eyes darting between Voldemort and whatever was behind Voldemort.

He stared as the omega looked back into his eyes with unbridled defiance. His alpha purred in happiness.

He stared as the boy called for his wand and ran.

He stared as the boy grabbed a body and the trophy, effectively escaping his alpha. But it was fine.

The boy is an omega.

Harry Potter is an omega.

Chapter 7: Horcrux of The Taste Of Lightning is out now!!

excerpt:

The boy must be kept safe, must be warded against danger, must, ideally, remain at Voldemort’s side. At some point he may retrieve his soul from this lovely vessel, but until that is possible, he will keep the boy under guard. His alpha agrees, humming with pleasure at the thought. Voldemort’s fingers slip into silky curls, he fists them gently, careful not to tug, and lifts his upper body off the bed so he can look down at the sleeping boy. With his gimlet eyes closed and cheek mushed against Voldemort’s chest, Potter is the picture of innocence.  Voldemort is robbing a cradle. The dumpling soft cheeks are still rounded with baby fat and flushed a sweet pink from his heat. His lips are the same tender colour. A little drool has escaped the corner of his mouth. He is so very, very young.  So utterly perfect. The right age for Voldemort to mould as he pleases. Any older and he would be completely set in his ways, stubborn and difficult though may yet be, Voldemort will certainly win the boy over.

The Taste of Lightning chapter 6 has arrived!

Voldemort's POV of Harry's heat

The boy is…unpredictable. It is unnerving, how Voldemort is still not accustomed to it. With how many times Potter has escaped him, he ought to be prepared for this possibility. He ought to expect it, the pattern obvious and predictable. At every turn, the boy defies him. An omega. Of course.

CHAPTER 3 HAS ARRIVED!

Harry finally gets to pee! Yay!! Let's celebrate! 🥳

Rating: E

Tags: Omega Harry Potter, Alpha Voldemort (Harry Potter), Attempted Sexual Assault, Not by Voldemort though, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter)Dubious Consent, harry is 16, due to the nature of heats, horror vibes, brief blood and gore, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Creepy Voldemort (Harry Potter)Manipulative Voldemort (Harry Potter)Psychological Horror, just a little

Warnings for Voldemort being a creep...

It’s incredible. The feeling of finally being able to let go and the pure satisfaction of releasing is so intense Harry moans in relief. It’s involuntary, and even the sound of it combined with that of liquid hitting porcelain can’t alleviate how damn good it feels to finally let it out. Uncomfortably good. He pisses for what feels like ages, the pressure in his bladder gradually lessens, the intense urge to let go fading away, replaced with the sudden and alarming awareness of where he is, who he’s with, and how he was so desperate to piss he didn’t actually shut the door…. With a growing sense of dread, Harry looks over shoulder. And startles violently. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t Voldemort in the bathroom, only a few feet behind him, way too fucking close! And—smiling, gently like it’s perfectly normal to creep up on people in the toilet and watch them take a leak. Harry shudders, skin crawling, why is he so damn close? Why’s he in the bathroom at all? “The hell—Why are you in here?!” “You were struggling, I thought you may require assistance.” Harry gapes. What the fuck? What the fucking fuck? He fumbles, stuffing his cock hurriedly into his jeans—he’ll clean himself properly later, when Voldemort isn’t bloody watching him!