Short summary: As an Order member, Harry had asked you to keep a close look on Tom and Draco, your sworn enemies. As you spotted them exiting the castle late at night, you decided to follow their tracks. That’s how you ended up in their cabin in the Forbidden Forest, wrists and ankles tied, while they taught you what it meant to snoop into Death Eater business.
Warnings: 18+ only! mask kink, degradation, exploiting power, abduction, fear play, nipple play, rough oral!m receiving, unprotected p in v, rough sex in general, face slapping, dacryphilia, boot worship, dub con, orgasm denial, little to no aftercare, dark!tom, dark!draco
A/N: This marks the end of Kinktober 2024! For this last oneshot I wanted to write something darker and also decided to double the usual wordcount, to make it a worthy finale! I hope my posts were somewhat enjoyable. A huge thank you to everyone for reading and supporting my works <3
wordcount: 4,5k
part 2
It was dangerous, reckless even.
The Order had sent you to spy on two of your classmates, Tom and Draco. Harry had been suspicious of them having been turned into followers of Voldemort, so your task was to investigate and keep an eye on their movements within and outside of the castle. And it had been going well – you had listened to several of their conversations, in which they had talked about some sort of “tasks” they had to complete. However, you have kept that for yourself until now, not wanting the Order to disturb your research just yet.
But your ambition got the best of you. As you saw the both of them sneak out the castle late at night, you decided to follow them secretly, wanting to get behind whatever they were up to. After, you would finally report back to the Order and let them take over.
They headed in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, too fast for you to keep up with, losing them out of your sight. It was too late to turn around now, though. You entered the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible. The night sky was pitch black, having you rely on your hearing only. Creaking branches and eerie noises coming from creatures living in the Forbidden Forest made you regret your insatiable nosiness, having you flinch at every little sound.
It was then when you wanted to turn around, returning to your warm bed, keeping you from the cold of the freezing January nights. Your growing hunger to rat the two boys out however outweighed any discomfort you were feeling at the time.
Tom and Draco. You had never gotten on well with them, their ego and arrogance hitting a nerve every time you heard them speak, thus your commitment to have them expelled. If it was true what Harry said – them being Death Eaters – there would be no chance of them ever returning to Hogwarts again. A knowing smirk formed on your face at the thought. Not only were they horrible people to be around, no, they also had it out for you after finding out about your very unfortunate love interest for the brunette. It was a mistake, truly. You thought you had a slight chance of getting him to like you back but oh how mistaken you were.
People started picking up on the rumours, having them spread like fiendfyre. Soon enough, it reached Tom and the other boys, including Draco. They didn’t take it easy on you after that. Bitter mocking and bullying were part of your daily routine for basically the rest of the second year you spent at Hogwarts. Now, in your seventh year, the mocking had stopped, yet the tension between you still lingered thick in the air.
Naturally, these feelings had long vanished. Instead of love, pure hate filled your heart at the mere thought of them. Yet, sometimes you couldn’t help yourself but take a quick glance at the brunette’s curls that made you fall in love with him in the first place. And Draco’s sea-blue eyes, that drew you right in… you shook your head. It was wrong. Not after what they had put you through.
You would make them suffer just like they had made you suffer for years. It would finally all be over after tonight.
Seeing a small light further into the forest, you carefully walked towards it, investigating where it came from. Though, the closer you got to the source, the further it seemed to travel away. Truly curious you thought, not halting your movements.
Snap.
A loud crack of a wooden branch somewhere behind you tore you out of your thoughts, quickly hiding behind a nearby bush. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, blood rushing through your ears. Had you missed something? They couldn’t have possibly spotted you, right? An owl flying by, screeching, made you flinch yet again.
Enough.
You have had enough of this. Standing up, you wiped your trousers, intending to return to the castle. You had failed to follow them, that was on you. It was time to give the Order the information they needed so desperately.
Turning around towards the exit of the forest, you bumped into something that definitely did not stand there before.
“There there, who do we have here?” A familiar voice mumbled, though somehow distorted by a… Death Eater mask.
It wasn’t easy to make out due to the lack of lighting, yet so recognizable at the same time. Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest. You stumbled backwards, attempting to make a run for it. A second pair of strong arms grabbed you, covering your mouth with one of their hands. “Where do you think you are going? Don’t you think it is rude to follow us all the way here and then wanting to leave so suddenly? He questioned. It was then when you realized who you were facing. Tom and Draco, disguised as Death Eaters.
“So it’s true!” You spat, somewhat freeing yourself of the blonde’s strong grip. “You are Death Eaters.”
No answer, only scoffs coming from their side. While the blonde still held onto you, Tom took your wand, tugging it into his own coat. “Give me my wand back and let me go!” You demanded, though your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Won’t be needing it anymore, darling.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“That won’t be the worst thing we are going to refer to you as tonight.”
Kicking, biting, screaming. It all didn’t help. They dragged you to a small hut, deeper into the forest, close to where you had originally spotted the source of light coming from. As they opened the door, you took in the seemingly cozy setting revealing itself to you. With two beds on each side and a small chimney in the back of the cabin, it didn’t intimidate you as much as you thought it would. As soon as the door fell shut behind you, a chair was summoned to the middle of the room, the brunette making you sit on it. A quick swirl of his wand later your ankles and wrists were bound tightly to the chair, making you unable to even move the slightest bit. The ropes burnt into your skin, as the blonde stuffed a cloth in your mouth, securing it with tape to keep you from talking. They lit the fireplace, warmth immediately spreading through the freezing hut.
Finally, they stood in front of you, as you now were able to see them properly for the first time. They were dressed in all black, heavy boots, the signature Death Eater mask covering their face and hid their hair under a black hood. If it weren’t for their voices, even those slightly distorted through the mask, you wouldn’t have recognized them. That was the least of your worries at the moment though. After all, you sat there in front of two Death Eaters, tied up on a chair, your wand long gone. You cursed yourself internally for even getting in this situation, and slowly but surely fear settled in. What would they do to you after realising you had been snooping around?
Slowly, the taller figure, Tom, stalked towards you, step after step coming closer to your helpless self.
“That’s what they call “fighters” in their ranks. Potter had always been fond of you, hm? That’s how you got in in the first place. No sane mind would even consider taking you in otherwise. Must have done many filthy things to convince him. Of course, we didn’t expect anything else. Look at you. So easy to catch. To tie up. To use for our own good.”
He circled around you, finally coming to a halt behind you, resting his arms on the on the chair as he leaned in, his face inching closer to yours. “Where is the Order now to protect you?” The brunette whispered into your ear with fake sympathy.
Your face turned to the side as the second man’s palm met your cheek harshly, leaving a red imprint behind. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. It would only satisfy their sick minds.
“Speak when spoken to!” Draco demanded. “Oh, my bad. Forgot you can’t.” He mocked, tearing the tape from your face in a quick motion. You hissed at the pain, yet remained silent otherwise. You wouldn’t let them get to you. Not like this. After all they had done to you, you wouldn’t let them break you again, you had sworn to it.
“Don’t want to talk? Too bad. Exactly for this scenario we have come prepared. We know how much you love rats, doll.” They revealed a cage, a rat sitting within. Placing the cage it on your lap, they watched your reaction.
“Get that thing away from me!” you screeched, tears falling down your face. There was no use in shuffling around to get it off, the ropes were too tight.
“Not if you act like this, darling.”
You couldn’t believe it. They wouldn’t really harm you, would they? “Please! I will do anything!”
“You answer every single question and follow every single command we give you. Otherwise…” Tom dragged out the last word as his fingers travelled to the lock, playing with it. “No, no please I will!”
“Wise choice.” You felt an intense relief as they finally moved it out of sight.
“You bastards!” You cried, breathing shakily, though immediately regretting your choice of words. Another hard slap to your other cheek. “You are in no position to speak to us like that.”
“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, sobbing, your gaze flickering between the two in front of you.
They finally took of their mask, revealing themselves to you. You recognized the gorgeous brunette curls and stunning deep-blue eyes straight away.
“Nothing you haven’t been wishing for, darling. You should know Draco and me are skilled Legilimens, aware of all your dirty imaginations.”
Shit.
Throwback to Potions Class, sixth year
You were sitting with your friends, studying the ingredients of a new potion, when Tom and Draco entered the classroom with their friends. Their presence always had a somewhat bitter taste to it. You hated them for their smug, arrogant behaviour, yet couldn’t deny your attraction towards them, as much as you hated to admit it.
They sat down, preparing their cauldron. Your gaze wandered to Tom and Draco’s hands, taking in the shape of their slender fingers. The way they held onto their wand, the way they worked the knife – you wondered what else they could do. In general, they were beautifully built. Taller than you, perfectly shaped body. Your mind went as far as imagining what they would look like without their Slytherin robes, just when you could feel a piercing gaze on you, tearing you out of your daydream. It was Tom, looking at you as though he had heard you think.
You turned your focus back to your textbook, avoiding his stare. Not thinking much of it, these thoughts kept coming back every now and then, getting more intense. At some point you wish they just bent you over that damn table and fucked you right there in the classroom.
You hated yourself for it. Your sworn enemies – and you thought of them like that?
Back to the present
All these months – they knew? They knew what you had been daydreaming about? Heat rushed to your face, turning a deep shade of red. You felt exposed and embarrassed to a level you didn’t think was possible.
“So this was all planned? You lured me into the forest so you could get back at me?” You hissed as realization set in.
“Don’t you think we have noticed your pathetic attempts to spy on us? This here was all part of the plan. And you so perfectly followed us into our trap. This is about teaching you a lesson not to mess with us. If you behave, we might even think about letting you go unharmed, hm?” The blonde smiled, his index finger lifting your chin so you were forced to look at him, while his thumb softly swiped along your jawline.
Hot tears threatened to spill yet again. You were in big trouble, not even sure if you would ever make it out of this cabin alive.
“Save your tears for later. You will need them.” Tom said sternly, retrieving more ropes from a drawer.
Draco’s rough fingers expertly loosened the ties around your wrists and ankles, holding your arms behind your back so the brunette could fasten the ropes again, rubbing your sore skin before doing so. Before you could react, the blonde yanked you up by your hair, other hand around your throat so you were pressed flush against his chest, unable to move with your hands tied behind your back as Tom knelt down to also bind your ankles together.
“Want her on her knees.” The brunette instructed, Draco's knee pressed into the back of yours, sending you crashing to the floor, your knees hitting the ground hard. It was all so fucked up, yet you couldn’t help but feel excitement rush through your body at the thought of what they may make you do.
Tom backhanded you once on each side, leaving a burning sensation behind. “Already forgotten we can hear your thoughts? You shouldn’t be fucking enjoying this, whore.”
The blonde kept you in your position, his knee pressing into your spine as Tom made quick work of your clothes, basically tearing them off your body. You were breathing heavily, wincing at the sound of the ripping fabric. It was sensation overload – it all happened so quickly, one second you were on the chair, the next on the floor, Tom degrading you while tying you up, ripping the clothes from your skin.
Tom shook his head. “No bra? Merlin help you.” His hand reached for your tits, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Soft gasps left your parted lips, watching his fingers do magic.
“Pathetic. So damn pathetic. Bet you do this with Potter every other day, huh?”
“Jealous?” You asked, biting your lip playfully, finding Tom’s darkening eyes. Where you got the confidence from? You didn’t know. But you decided it would be even more fun if you riled them up just a little bit.
“Going to fucking regret this.” The brunette sneered, fetching some type of metal clamps from the same drawer he had gotten the ropes from. You had never seen anything remotely close to that before, curious what he was going to do with them.
Oh.
“That hurts!” You complained, eyebrows furrowing.
Draco knelt down behind you, his hand circling your throat, forcing your head onto his shoulder. “You better be quiet and take it. If you decide to act like a brat, you get treated like one.”
The brunette repeated the process with the other breast, leaving you sore and wanting.
They then switched positions, Draco standing right in front of you. “Undo the zipper. With your mouth if you have to.”
Eagerly, you did as you were told, the blonde finishing the job, his painfully hard length on full display right in front of you. “Get to work.” Tom demanded, shoving your face towards the blonde. Another, softer slap to your cheek. “Open your mouth.” Draco instructed, slapping his cock onto your lips. You did as you were told. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his sensitive tip at first, before eagerly taking more of him inside of you. Tom pushed you down on the blonde’s length, who picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You choked around him, not able to take him entirely, to the dismay of the blonde. “Fucking open up that throat for me, slut.” He sneered, tip hitting the back of your mouth. Tom held you there, and you were sure if it were just a few seconds longer you would have passed out from the lack of oxygen in your body.
The blonde pulled out, letting you catch your breath. “You like this too, don’t you? Damn right you do.”, shoving his length back inside of you without any warning. He was rough – merciless to be exact. Your gagging and choking seemed to turn him on even more, relentlessly abusing your throat. Tom pushed you down one more time, his other hand choking you, the tip of your nose touching Draco’s lower abdomen. Your eyelids got heavy, vision going blurry before the brunette yanked your head back. You coughed heavily, your head resting on Tom’s shoulder.
“Two minutes break, then it’s my turn.” He whispered into your ear, cupping your breasts. Your head shot up, whining at the soreness of them. “Please take them off.” You croaked, your tear-soaked face turning into a pout.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, it hurts. Please take them off.”
Draco and Tom exchanged a glance, the blonde then removing the clamps. You exhaled sharply, the stinging pain spreading through your entire body. Tom then switched positions with Draco again, lifting your chin. “What do you say when we give you something you want?” He murmured, meeting your teary eyes. “T-Thank you!” You sobbed, relaxing your head on the blonde, closing your eyes.
“Come on, open up.” You heard the brunette say, your eyelids fluttering open. Reluctantly, you did, and he let you adjust to him before setting a steady pace. Surprisingly, he didn’t go as rough as Draco, yet still pushing your limits. “Look at this. Fucking soaking my cock, you filthy whore. Always so damn messy.” His words made your mind reel, solely focusing on pleasuring him. Tom soon pulled out with a grunt, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his throbbing dick.
“Listen to me.” Draco started.
You hummed in agreement, exhaustedly kneeling on the floor.
“If you behave well for the next step, you are done, alright?” You nodded. “Okay.”
Tom then repositioned you, ass up face down, arching your back. Your head rested on Draco’s lap, who sat down. “Going to fill two of your holes now. I expect you to behave and take it, or we will be here for a much longer. Got it?” The brunette explained, slowly sliding his cock through your folds, gathering the slick that had leaked from your sopping cunt. You were shivering in anticipation, eager to finally have him inside of you.
Slap.
You flinched, apologizing right away. “M’ sorry! Yes, I understand.” Their smacks were quite unforgiving.
“Better.”
Steadily, he pushed into your tight heat, stretching you out completely. While it hurt just a bit, pain soon turned into pleasure, feeling every single vein on his cock while it slammed in and out of your warm cunt. “Fuck, you are so tight and wet. This turns you on? You are pathetic. Fuck- so fucking- pathetic. Our needy whore.” He groaned, thrusting deeper now, his tip kissing your sensitive cervix. You felt your eyes roll back at the intense feeling, fully submitting to it. Draco then grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you down on his dick again. “Gonna suck me off while Tom fucks your filthy cunt. Merlin- that throat feels heavenly, so fucking tight.” The blonde hissed, having you choke around him, his fingers tangling in your hair.
It was rough. Intense. Overwhelming. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of them. You loathed loving this- Fuck, you shouldn’t. But damn, you did. Stretching you out so perfectly, degrading you just how you loved it, showing you what it meant to have all their attention you so desperately craved all these years ago. And now you finally had it- with both of them buried deep inside of you.
Barely able to breathe as Draco slipped in and out of your throat, Tom harshly smacked your ass cheeks, encouraging you to take the blonde as deep as you could.
“Fuck- m’ gonna come. Take it- take it all, whore. Show me how much you want my cum in that dirty mouth of yours.” He pinched your nose, holding your head flush against his lower abdomen as he spilled himself deep down your aching throat, making sure you swallow it all before he released you. Of course you did, greedily even.
As soon as he released you, you gasped for air, sucking in as much oxygen as you possibly could. Wiping your chin, soaked with a mixture of drool and cum with the back of your hand, you met the blonde’s gaze, who grinned sheepishly at you, shaking his head. “Such a filthy girl.”
You managed a sly smile, completely fucked out, inhaling sharply through your mouth.
Now, all you felt was Tom sinking his thick length in and out of you, your vision going blurry as he hit all the right spots inside of you. Soft groans came from behind you as his hips pistoned into yours, making you jolt forward with every thrust – just for him to pull you right back against his cock, having you take him completely. The intensity of his harsh treatment had spill tears, your mascara running down your cheeks. “Fucking keep crying for me, show me how good I am making you feel.” His words sent you spiralling, your walls fluttering around his dick.
“Feel you clenching me. I know how badly you want this, whore. Come on, concentrate. Concentrate and come, come all over this cock and you are done.” He sneered, one hand wandering underneath you to play with your breast.
“I- I can’t come without-“ you cried, your most sensitive spot burning for attention.
“Can’t come without having your needy clit taken care of, huh?” Tom mocked, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest as he leaned into the side of your neck.
“Too bad, then.”
The brunette let go of your hair again, having you slump forward on the wooden floor with a soft cry.
A few more groans and sharp snaps of his hips and he filled you up, a warm sensation pooling deep inside of you. “Thank- thank you.” You said, wincing as he slowly pulled out of you. You felt sore – basically everywhere. Muscles aching, throat burning – it’s been a rough night. Draco knelt beside you, freeing you from the ropes, as you looked at him intently.
Standing up, saying you would return back to Hogwarts, Tom stopped you.
“Returning to your friends? The Order? Doesn’t seem like they care much about you. Letting you leave at night to follow two alleged Death Eaters all by yourself. Sounds more like they want you to die.”
“But you promised-“
“Who do you fucking belong to?” “Huh?” Slap. “Who?” Slap. “Tell me, who is it?” Slap.
“You, I belong to you!” You cried, a sharp pain radiating from your cheek, a red handprint visible on your delicate skin.
“That’s right, doll. No more contact with the Order from this day on. You are staying with us, here. I forbid you to go back.”
You opened your mouth to complain, yell at them, whatever. Again, the brunette interrupted you.
“Besides, you aren’t done yet.”
Your heart dropped. “I c-can’t anymore, please.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t involve Draco or me directly. Come here.”
Though completely drained, you still followed his command. He guided you towards him, having you hover over- his boot?
“You have three minutes to make yourself come on my boot. If you can’t do it, no orgasm for you tonight.”
It was so wrong. So humiliating in a way. Yet, you took the offer.
Sitting down on his boot, you eagerly ground on it, holding onto Tom’s calves for leverage. He didn’t do anything – only watch you hungrily. And you tried – tried so hard to finish. But you were tired, your muscles not wanting to cooperate with you. As soon as you felt a little spark forming in your lower stomach, you held onto it, concentrating solely on the rough material rubbing against your puffy clit. It grew, and grew, and grew – and when it was time to release the pent-up desire and need to reach your own climax, the brunette pulled you off his boot.
“Three minutes are over.”
There was that arrogant smirk you hated so much again. You could have killed him right there. “You can’t be serious! I was so close!” You complained. Though, the only thing he seemed to care about was the mess you had left behind his footwear.
“What a pathetic slut you are. Look at the fucking mess you made.” His rough hands met the back of your head, pushing your face down onto the black leather, which was all sticky with your mixed juices, left from your desperate attempt to make yourself come. “Lick them clean. All nice and shiny just like they were before you decided to make them filthy.” Tom spat, looking down at you, grinning at your spent form.
There was absolutely no way you would do that. “Keep dreaming, Riddle.”
He scoffed, amused, shaking his head. Confused by the sudden change in demeanor, you must have stared at him for too long. It changed into something hard, unreadable again.
“You are staying.”
“I am sorry for spying but please-“ your voice cracked, a fresh tear running down your cheek.
“We don’t care about that. But you have to stay. It’s important.” Draco added, putting a towel on the drawer. They both got dressed as you sat there, still naked.
“Take a shower, get warm. The cabin is warded, you won't be able to exit is without any of us accompanying you. No complaining.” The brunette stated, closing his coat, Death Eater Mask in his hand.
“Where are you going?” You asked, following them.
“Death Eater business.” They both answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You can’t just-“
Draco was first to kiss your forehead, walking out of the door, putting on the mask. Tom followed, tenderly placing another kiss on your skin. He as well exited, not looking back to you as they disapparated.
“Come back! You can’t leave me here!” You yelled, crying. It was true what they said, the door wouldn’t even budge, windows sealed shut.
But why did the sudden affection? Why did their behaviour change so abruptly? It all confused you. Deciding to make the best of the situation you took a shower, rubbing shampoo in your scalp and massaging scented oil into your sore muscles.
They even left you some clothes to wear.
By that, you realized had planned to keep you all along, never intending to let you go.
You were on your own, in the fangs of Death Eaters.
summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.
a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...
song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary
harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.
there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.
the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.
though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.
harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.
to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.
voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.
the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.
applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.
it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…
ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.
in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.
ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.
harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.
harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.
harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.
but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.
his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.
another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.
though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.
ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.
as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.
it's you.
you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.
"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.
you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.
"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."
he looks unimpressed with your tone.
"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.
harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.
he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."
you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.
rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.
somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.
you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.
something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.
his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.
finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.
looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.
harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.
he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.
you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.
it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.
as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.
but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.
quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.
"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"
it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.
looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.
harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.
"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.
"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.
"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.
harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.
he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.
"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.
you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.
he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.
harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.
before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.
well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.
he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.
and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.
as soon as he walked in, he saw you.
how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.
"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.
he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.
you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.
he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.
after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.
that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.
weeks later, harry is a wreck.
you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.
you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.
you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.
and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.
of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.
a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.
if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.
in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.
not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.
he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.
see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.
he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.
that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.
harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.
but now, things are different.
he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.
all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.
this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.
this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.
so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?
you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.
"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.
harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.
"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.
as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.
harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.
he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.
he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.
"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.
you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.
that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.
as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.
cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.
he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?
except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?
as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.
it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.
you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.
you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.
"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."
harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.
you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.
yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.
the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.
when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.
you were just. so. hot.
your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.
to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.
"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.
he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.
"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.
harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."
as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?
on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.
you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.
at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.
and so do a few other guys.
harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.
harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.
you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.
on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.
as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?
he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.
"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.
"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.
what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.
before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.
you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.
he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.
his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.
just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.
the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.
you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.
he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.
he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.
harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.
"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.
"help me?" you ask seductively.
harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?
but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.
"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.
harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.
but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.
"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"
harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.
"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.
well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.
but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.
"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.
harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.
he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.
"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."
you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.
"i'm sorry," you say softly.
harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.
you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"
you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.
"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.
harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.
harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.
perfect, perfect, perfect.
your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.
he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.
you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.
he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.
what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.
as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.
"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.
you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.
"you're leaving me?"
harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.
"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.
you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.
"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.
you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.
he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.
"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.
he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.
within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.
you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.
"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.
he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.
"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"
harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.
he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.
harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.
"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.
"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.
"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.
"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.
the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.
"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.
his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.
"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.
you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.
"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.
harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.
he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.
"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.
"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.
your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.
"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.
"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.
you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.
"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.
harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.
"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.
"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.
"so don't stress about it, yeah?"
harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.
you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.
"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.
harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.
they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.
he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.
for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.
before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.
he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.
his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.
he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.
you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.
his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.
you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.
harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.
you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.
so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.
you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.
at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.
after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"
you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."
when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.
harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.
but, now that he has them…
keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.
his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.
finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.
just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.
this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.
as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.
you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…
he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.
it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.
spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.
sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.
the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.
"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.
harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."
you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.
as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."
you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.
you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.
"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.
amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.
"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.
you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.
"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.
"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."
harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."
professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."
after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.
"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.
"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."
harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.
"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.
you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.
"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"
harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.
"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.
you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.
if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.
you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.
you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.
"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.
harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.
harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.
your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.
harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.
"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.
you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.
harry could've died happy at that moment.
he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.
for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…
harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.
he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.
once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.
he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.
harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.
he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.
he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.
as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.
he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.
for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.
"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.
as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.
you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.
after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.
harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.
"[y/n]?" he asks.
harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.
harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.
harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.
you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.
yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.
he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."
the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.
harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.
"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.
there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.
"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.
"oh! um…" you start nervously.
"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.
of fucking course you did, harry thinks.
"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.
thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."
if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.
"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.
he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.
as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"
harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.
sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.
harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.
upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.
harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.
he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.
you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"
harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.
"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.
harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.
"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.
"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.
"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.
but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.
sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.
before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.
as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.
when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.
harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.
"harry, have you been working out?"
his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.
"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.
you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.
"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.
he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.
harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.
"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.
you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.
after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."
it was finally your birthday.
harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.
he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.
you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.
as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.
soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.
when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.
your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.
"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.
"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.
"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.
you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.
"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.
harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.
you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."
"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"
after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.
he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"
harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.
his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.
you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.
harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."
you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.
he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.
you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.
harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.
when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.
you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.
he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.
he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.
after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.
your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.
the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.
you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.
harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?
his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.
he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.
"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.
harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.
you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.
harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.
"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.
"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.
you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.
shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.
"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.
"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.
one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.
"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.
"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.
"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.
you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.
harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.
as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.
"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.
"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.
"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.
you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.
"i love you too, [y/n]."
it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.
you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.
it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.
you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.
"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."
"you're beautiful."
you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."
harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.
as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.
harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.
"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"
he can't resist when you ask nicely.
he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.
"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.
"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.
"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.
harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.
"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.
"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.
you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.
you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"
harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.
after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.
you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.
harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.
you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.
harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.
"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.
harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.
"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.
he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.
you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.
"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.
harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"
you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.
"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.
soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.
you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.
his mouth is watering just looking at you.
he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.
he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.
you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.
"i-i've never done this before." he admits.
you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.
"just enjoy yourself."
harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.
but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.
you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.
harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.
"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.
"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.
he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.
"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.
you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.
"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.
he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.
"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."
you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.
"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.
"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.
that's all it takes for harry.
trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.
after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.
"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"
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by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.
being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.
it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.
not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.
in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.
the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.
thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.
but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.
everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.
it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.
after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.
what he finds instead makes him see red.
thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.
that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.
you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.
before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.
you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.
"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.
harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.
harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."
thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.
"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.
as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."
and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.
walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.
you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.
you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.
you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.
he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.
"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.
he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.
as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.
"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.
"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.
"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.
you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.
"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."
harry smiles. no promises.
as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.
harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.
while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.
he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.
"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.
"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"
harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.
"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.
harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."
you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…
harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…
you were just so, so attracted to him right now.
"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.
the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.
he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.
you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.
you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.
as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.
you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.
but this time, harry was hungry for you.
not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.
harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.
you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.
as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.
he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.
"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.
watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.
"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.
"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.
"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.
your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.
he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.
after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.
"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."
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[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]
idk why but I’m imagining like a primal prey masked scene with Eddie and a reader who works part time at a spirit Halloween and is closing shop alone for the night. Maybe she dressed up in costume for work that day (never worked at a spirit Halloween, idk if that’s allowed lol) and she’s dressed as a princess or fairy or something sweet and cute. He hides among the masks, wearing one maybe and corners her in the back room? -🍔
What's Your Favorite Scary Movie?
Dark!Eddie Munson x Reader
A/N: I changed it just a smidge, hope that’s okay. Thanks for the request, you’ve got your own tag now! I made a little map of my idea for the layout of the shop–just for ease of reading and writing. For non-Americans: Spirit Halloween is a pop up shop that arrives in, like, September and stays until the end of October. They sell costumes and decor. Important to note for this fic, usually Spirit’s pop up in abandoned buildings of old businesses. Also, I listened to my ‘dead dove: do not eat’ playlist while writing this hehe. Kind of modern Eddie because Spirit and Ghostface, but I don’t like writing modern Eddie so it’s mostly obscure. Here’s a map I doodled of the store.
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: 18+ mdni!!!! DUBCON verging on NONCON (don’t read if that’s not your cup of tea), smut, Eddie’s obviously very OOC, kinda primal play (mainly the chase and the hunting), a lot of manipulation, Eddie kinda mind fucks reader, fingering, dirty talk, gaslighting, gratuitous nicknames because Eddie’s so condescending (dolly, sweetheart, honey, baby?), mocking, dumbification kinda, blowjob, face fucking in both senses, spitting, forced deepthroating, forced cum swallowing, cum eating, cum pay, dirty talk, degredation (slut, bitch), dacryphilia, choking and gagging on dick, one mention of vomiting on dick (doesn’t happen), dom!Eddie, sub!Reader, Eddie basically manipulates reader into subspace, this shit is nasty guys
Asks are open, come talk to me about Eddie!!
Masterlist
The chiming bell above the door indicates the exit of your last two customers for the evening. You slam the cash register closed, grabbing the keys under the checkout counter. Idly walking over to lock the doors, preventing any last minute customers, you admire the sound of silence, finally. There’s only so much animatronic groaning and shrieking a person can take before the holiday fun turns into CIA level torture.
Brining the keys back to the counter, you check your hand mirror to make sure your makeup is still intact after such a long day. Grumbling about last minute holiday shoppers, you wipe away a small smear of red on your cheeks. Since it’s the day before Halloween, you decided to fully dress up. You’ve worn Halloween themed outfits for work, but this is the first time you’re fully in costume. Today, you spent your entire shift in a poofy mini-dress, your face painted with gaudy makeup to resemble a doll—complete with bright red circles of 'blush' on your cheeks, now slightly smeared.
Once you’re done fixing your makeup, you look around the empty store. Eddie, your coworker, is nowhere to be seen. You’ve worked with him all season, he’s painfully attractive but he’s also equally as painfully annoying. All the other girls you work with spend their shifts watching his every move, hoping he’ll look at them just once. You, on the other hand, spend your shifts bossing him around. It’s like he gets some sick enjoyment from it because he never does his job right. Like right now…
“Eddie, come on, it’s time to close out,” you shout into the quiet store. “Also, you’re such an ass, by the way! You’re not supposed to take your fifteen right before we close!”
His lack of response has you halting your movements, dropping the money you were counting. “Eddie?”
Silence.
You roll your eyes, walking back to the storage room to look for him, muttering a disgruntled, “Asshole.”
When you open the door to the storage room, it’s empty. All you see are boxes and the wall of returned costumes with matching masks hanging on hooks, waiting to be shoved back into their plastic packaging. He was supposed to have done that earlier in the day after you two opened, now you look at the wall donning at least fifty costumes. It’s like one big fabric wall, top to bottom.
“Ugh! Eddie, what the hell is this? I told you to do the putbacks this morning,” you frustratedly grumble to no one in particular as you eye a Ghostface mask before moving on—just hoping wherever the guy is, he can feel the vibrations of your anger.
Walking further into the storage room, you look behind some boxes, trying to expose any of his hiding spots. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s jumped out at you in this room, the douchebag. Studying the labels of the last shipment, you don’t notice the way the Ghostface mask turns to follow your figure.
When you’re sure he’s not in here, you turn around and just about jump out of your skin—shrieking at the figure clad in black, donning the Scream mask. You don’t notice how the person is blocking your only exit, too busy bitching at what has to be Eddie—he’s the only other person working today.
“Ugh, Eddie! I was calling you, jackass. What’s with all the putbacks,” you gesture to the costumes he’s neglected to put away.
His annoying, perpetually smug voice never comes. He just stands there before he tilts his head, observing you.
“Look, I know it’s you.” You cross your arms defiantly, jutting a hip out as you size him up. “And if for some reason it isn’t you, I’m gonna beat your ass. In fact—if it is you, I’m thinking I’ll still beat your ass.” His silence only makes you angrier as you mutter out, “Wouldn’t be undeserved.”
The figure steps closer, causing you to back up into some boxes. Your pulse is spiking, you’re 99% sure it’s him, but you can’t help thinking of all those 60 Minutes episodes about murderers targeting poor, helpless, young girls.
Despite your fight or flight reflex whirring, you scoff at the figure, “I can smell your cologne, dumbass.” The pungent scent of Old Spice gives the metalhead away.
He inches closer as you maneuver to the side, avoiding being cornered. You circle around until you’re both equidistant to the only exit, his body having matched every single movement—like a predator stalking its prey.
You nervously attempt to deflect his attention, “Stop being such a weirdo, dude.”
Silence.
Deep breaths rack through your rapidly moving chest as you come to a stare-off with the mask, a one millisecond long glimpse to the exit and back to him was apparently one millisecond too long. The moment you break for the door, he’s scrambling to beat you there.
Managing to get the heavy door open about three inches before it’s slammed shut by his hand, you feel strong arms wrap around your body as you struggle out of his hold.
“Eddie, I’m not fucking kidding! I will beat the ever living shit out of you and I’m not talking about booty bootcamp type shit,” you scream, trying to push his body off of you.
The threat falls on deaf ears as he forcefully throws you against the wall opposite the door, finally taking the mask off to reveal himself. He shakes out his frizzy curls as he laughs at your face—a mix of shock and anger.
“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m just fuckin’ with you,” he placates, hands up in surrender like he’s shocked you’re as mad as you are.
Huffing, you stand up, smoothing out your dress, “Yeah, well one of us didn’t consent to being fucked with. Now come on, we need to close up.” You walk the short distance past him, opening the door again.
Three inches of freedom before it’s slammed shut again.
You don’t move, hands still grasping the metal knob as you stare at his large, ringed hand holding the door closed. Your back is to him as you feel his looming presence behind you, just waiting for you to turn around—but you don’t.
“Eddie,” you breathe out slowly, pulse spiking again. “Let me out…”
“No.”
His tone is firm, final. It makes you suck in a stuttering breath.
“Why?”
“Because I wanna play with my dolly,” he coos.
Shivering as you feel his feather light caress down the cheap fabric of your costume, he lifts the hem of the skirt, inspecting it as he rubs the thin material between his thumb and index finger.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You try to sound firm, mean, but he’s scaring you. He usually acts weird around you—staring, hovering, one time you caught him smelling your hair—but never this weird.
Stepping away as you feel wandering fingers on your thighs, you lean your back against the wall next to the door—finally facing him. His arm firmly planted against the exit, he’s trapping you between the tattooed limb and the piles of boxes on your other side.
He leans in, dark eyes almost black with desire. You shakily watch as he closes them, sucking in a deep breath, groaning at the smell of your worn perfume. His insane actions make you cringe in disgust, he’s really owning up to the title of ‘freak’ right now.
“Do you know the torture I’ve had to endure?” He tilts his head, studying your painted face, “Watching you prance around in your little outfits, day in and day out. Taunting me…”
You flinch as he brings a thumb up to your cheek, smearing the red paint down your face. But then, to your confusion, he presses the same red-stained thumb to his own cheek—leaving a matching mark.
“This is only natural, sweetheart. You brought this on yourself,” he whispers, leaning in close, grazing wandering lips along delicate, painted skin.
“E–Eddie, this isn’t funny,” you try, hoping he’ll drop this deranged act.
He only smirks, huffing an amused breath against your skin, “Good. I was making a joke.”
Straining your neck to avoid his hungry lips, you cringe when he slobbers on your pulse point. Frustrated that you can feel your panties dampening at his attention, you knee him in the balls and shove him down. Turning quickly as he groans in pain, you open the storage room door and run to the store’s exit. The main door doesn’t budge when you violently shake it, kicking yourself when you remember you locked it.
Eddie roars in anger, cursing you, “Women! You know, you tease and you tease and then you leave. What’s a man to do?”
The rush of blood in your ears nearly drowns out the sound of the storage room door scraping open. A quick glance at the checkout counter tells you there’s no time—no chance to sprint over, find the keys, race back, pick the right one, and unlock the store’s exit before he reaches you.
You jump at the sudden shriek of a clown, the animatronic triggered by Eddie’s heavy footsteps a few rows back. Abandoning the exit, you dart for cover instead. The store’s shelving forms a maze, and the last thing you want is to round a corner straight into him. Your eyes lock onto the translucent tarp hanging from the ceiling—the thin divider between the Spirit store and the rest of the abandoned building. Without a second thought, you slip toward it.
“You know,” he yells out as he stomps to the front of the store, “that wasn’t very nice of you, honey. You’re supposed to be a good dolly!”
Quietly slipping along the wall of the dim, open space, you settle around a corner. The only light in the room are the flickering fluorescents pouring in from the store behind the curtain, casting haunting shadows. Stopping to listen, you try to pinpoint where he is in the store.
Eddie realizes you’re not at the front, not hiding behind the checkout counter like he would’ve thought. “Tricky dolly,” he mutters, shaking his head at your games.
Trying to control your breathing, you pin a hand to your mouth to stifle the sound. Yelping into your hand as you hear him whip the tarp away, you start inching blindly along the walk, trying to get as far away from the corner as possible.
“Dolly,” he sing-songs, “come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Your body jumps as you run into a scaffolding ladder, the metal shaking as you quickly grab ahold of it—trying to silence the reverberation.
Eddie grins when he hears the clang of metal in the dark room, continuing his silent prowl, coming up on the corner. When he arrives, he pauses to listen to your poorly muffled haggard breathing. Your fear has him hard as a rock, he can’t wait to play with his dolly. He deserves to, he’s waited long enough.
You slide along the wall away from the metal structure, back to the corner, straining to listen to where he might be—but all you hear is silence.
Eddie jumps out, rounding the arris, “Tell me, dolly–”
Screaming, you make a run for it into the open space but he’s quickly grabbing your dress with both hands, slamming you back to the wall. You hiss as you hit your head.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
Bringing your knee up to get him again, you jerk when he slams his palm down on your thigh, effectively blocking the assault. He shoves his body against you, giving you no room to try again.
“Aht, aht, aht, dolly,” he reprimands. “Fool me once.”
Sobbing out exhausted breaths, you glare at him, “What the fuck do you want?”
“I told you what I want, honey?” He leans in, brushing his lips against your panting mouth. You can feel his hands slither up your thighs, fingers brushing against your damp panties. “And judging by your needy pussy, I think you want it too.”
Trying to withhold the pleasured whine, yearning to escape as he digs his fingers into your cunt, you mutter out a half-hearted, “Stop.”
“Do you want me to stop, dolly,” he pouts, pressing his erection into your thigh, deft fingers brushing against your velvety walls.
Whimpering as he draws you closer to the edge, you don’t answer his question, ashamed that it’s Eddie—weirdo, freak, perverted Eddie—who’s got your legs shaking.
He nips at your neck as he draws moans out of your scratchy throat. “Hm? What was that, dolly? You wan’ me to stop?”
Unable to form words, his long fingers bring you to your peak. The pleasure doesn’t last longer than a second because he pulls his glistening digits out at the first pulse of your desperate walls—ruining your orgasm. Whining in distress as your hole squeezes around nothing, you paw at his clothing, trying to pull his retreating figure back to you.
“W–What are y–you doing?”
“You told me to stop, sweetheart.” He says it so simply, like he’s always respected your boundaries—never pushing.
“B–But–,” you have tears in your eyes, pouty lips quivering as you try to make sense of this god forsaken punishment. First he scares the shit out of you, then he makes you want him, then he doesn’t allow you to have him.
He pouts, mocking your teary eyes, “I’m sorry, honey.” He isn’t. “I just got confused,” he didn’t. “All your screaming—it didn’t sound like you wanted me all that much, dolly.”
So desperate for true completion, you try to bring him closer to you again. “N–No, I do wan’ you, please, Eddie.” He’s breaking you down, he’s got to be some kind of wizard with the way he’s turned your attitude fully around.
Eddie puts on his best sad eyes, shaking his head and stepping out of your grip. “I don’t know, you didn’t seem that into it,” he shrugs, cock never harder. “I just don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.” It takes everything in him to keep the evil smile at bay, you’re eating this shit up—give a girl the impression it’s her choice to grant you her body, she’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.
“No, please! I do! I do wanna–,” you whining pauses, embarrassment thrumming through you at your words, “–wanna do stuff…with you…”
“Well,” he shrugs again, sad eyes downcast, “we can’t do anything if you’re not good…”
“I can be good,” you hurry, the ache in your pussy needier than ever. “I can be so good.” You hesitate to say the next part, unwilling to give in but needing that sweet release he ripped from you. “I can be your dolly…if you want,” you mutter, looking up at him beneath painted black lashes.
Eddie could cheer after hearing what you just said, you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. But it’s not enough…
“Maybe,” he allows, “But you kinda made me feel bad earlier.”
“No–I didn’t mean to,” yes you did, that was before he used his freaky weirdo powers to confuse your tired brain. “I–I can make it up to you,” you try, hoping he’ll give you that proper orgasm you so desperately need if you give him something first.
“How,” he asks innocently, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Just–lemme–,” you gently guide him to rest his back against the wall, trading places with him. Quickly unbuttoning his black jeans, you slide down his body bringing his pants and underwear with you.
His hard, pulsing cock sprigs free, leaking and ready for attention. You gulp at the sight of it, it’s the largest you’ve ever taken. But the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you get to cum—hopefully.
He coos at your wide eyes, reveling in the frightened gaze you throw his massive cock. Brushing your cheek gently, he mutters out a soft, “Aw, dolly. You don’t have to, we can just go home.”
The thought of going home aching for his touch has you scrambling, desperately shaking your head. “No! No, I wanna! Please let me, Eddie.”
Trying not to answer too quickly, he hesitates before nodding his head, “Okay, but you stop when you need to, got it?”
You nod your head before wrapping your pillowy lips around his leaking tip, twirling your hungry tongue across soft skin. He groans at the velvety feel of your mouth, the softness of your hand as it wraps around the base of his cock.
Bobbing your head slowly, you attempt to take him further in. He watches your eyes fill with tears again, this time from taking his large cock. Licking his lips, slyly studying the way you struggle to stuff him into your stretched mouth, he gives his hips a little thrust. You immediately gag at the sudden force, pulling off just a bit as you look up at him with questioning eyes. He plays it off as an accident, cooing and petting your face, “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. You just feel so good. Makin’ me so hard, dolly.”
His compliments encourage you to try again, bringing him deeper with each bob of your head. He’s groaning at your enthusiasm, reveling in the number he’s done on you, he can’t wait to reap more of the benefits. The messy slurping coming from your greedy mouth has him fighting back the urge to make you choke on his cock, but he’s gotta ease you into it or all his work will be dashed.
“Dolly,” he moans, hands brushing the tears from your cheeks, he listens for your responding moan—mouth too full to reply. “Y’wanna make me feel real nice?”
Nodding fervently, the uncoordinated movement makes you gag more on his cock, accidentally letting it slide in further. The discomfort leaves quickly as you squeeze your thighs at the groan he lets out, your throat constricting around his tip as you try to swallow some spit—it’s no use, your chin is covered in drool, makeup smearing.
“And then maybe I can make you feel good?”
Another gagging nod.
“Would you let me fuck your face?” It’s a tentative attempt, he doesn’t know if you’re really down—if he’s really got you now. He watches as you pull off of him, a string of spit connecting your panting mouth to his cock makes him want to just shove himself back in regardless of what you say, but he won’t. He’s played the game long enough, he’s not going to screw it up now.
Huffing hurried breaths out of swollen lips, you look up at him, trying to read his face. “Will you be nice?”
“Of course I will, sweetheart.” He strokes your cheek, purposefully smearing more makeup, loving the way you look, all fucked up. “I wouldn’t hurt my dolly, I want her in mint condition!”
You close your eyes at his soothing fingers, “Okay.”
“Good girl. And remember, you can stop at any time, okay? Just tap my thigh and I’ll let you go, you hear me?”
You nod as he strokes his throbbing cock, biting his lip as he looks at your melting makeup.
“I think we need to get you a little more wet first, dolly.” You have no time to question what he means when you feel him spit on your face, flinching with a yelp as it lands beneath your eye, your jaw dropping in shock.
The glob of saliva inches down your face as he brings his hands to spread it around, your eyes closing to avoid contamination. His hands are messy and uncoordinated, like a toddler finger painting. Then he’s pulling you up higher on your knees, resting his heavy, lengthy cock on your face as his fingers grasp each side of your head, thumbs pinning his member to you.
He starts thrusting against your face, whimpers and gasps pour out of your mouth as you accept his unexpected motions. Groaning at the feeling the contours of your features provide, he looks down, admiring the smear of paint, spit, and now precum as he fucks himself against your face.
“Oh fuck, that’s the shit, baby. You’re doin’ s’good for me.”
You’ve never felt so humiliated, the coworker you thought you hated rubbing his hard, leaky cock against your face—getting off on giving you nothing, making you look ridiculous. You’ve never felt as humiliated or as turned on. Your panties are practically soaked as you try to clench and unclench your thighs, searching for some kind of relief.
He releases your head, pulling you away from his twitching cock to get a good look at the mess he made. “Open up, dolly.”
Opening your eyes, your entire face covered in spit and wet paint, you open your mouth, eagerly awaiting his cock. But that would be too kind.
Gripping your jaw harshly, he leans down gathering as much saliva as he can before spitting into your waiting mouth. “Now swallow,” he demands, losing his sweet tone.
Doing as you’re told you close your mouth swallowing, opening again to show him your empty mouth.
“Good girl,” he pats your cheek harshly, pulling you onto his cock again.
His praise reinvigorates you. You want to do so good for him that he gives you a big treat.
He keeps his grip on you head as he slowly fucks in and out of your mouth with ease. You appreciate the pace, he doesn’t push too far and you don’t gag as he only feeds you a little at a time.
After he hears your muffled, desperate moan around his cock, the vibrations eliciting a groan, he decides you’ve had enough kindness. Harshly thrusting into your mouth, he grins at the violent gag the intrusion pulls from you. His hips continue pounding into your mouth, no care for the distressing sounds you let out. Tears stream down your cheeks with the constant gagging, your throat closing around his cock. It’s like he’s trying to bully his way into your stomach; he won’t let up.
You’re having trouble breathing and you feel like you’re one more thrust away from vomiting so you tap his thighs. But he doesn’t stop, he just continues groaning. “Fuck, baby. Lettin’ me fuck your throat, such a slut. Ugh, fuck yeah, take it, bitch,” he growls.
You’re wailing and gagging on his abusive cock, repeatedly hitting his thighs to get him to release you, trying to pull off but his strong grip on your head keeps your mouth full. Feeling his taut balls slap against your chin, he starts cumming down your throat only causing you to choke more. He pulls out with just enough cum left to jerk off on your face, grinning wickedly as you splutter out choking, wet coughs. Your eyes are closed—an attempt to avoid semen in the eye.
Coughing up his tangy spend, it dribbles down your chin. Some of it you’re able to swallow—more like forced, he shot his load right down your throat—but the shock of him cumming while you gagged on his cock had you spitting a lot of it up, frantically trying to clear your airway.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, spreading his cum around your spit soaked face. “You look so pretty like this.”
You whimper at his words, dropping your head from his hands as more tears fall, “That was mean, Eddie.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, dolly. You just felt too good, I had to cum.” He pouts, matching your pitiful face—loving the hyperventilating breaths your sobs bring.
“B–But what about me? I was good for you,” you whined, crying more at the fact that you won’t be getting fucked right now, he just came.
“You were, honey! You were so good. But that just means we’ll have to do it another time,” he offers, hungry eyes roving over the mess he made of you.
His answer makes full blown sobs come out, feeling so overwhelmed from the events of the evening. Cooing condescendingly, he smears some more cum against your makeup before lifting you up. “Come on, up you get. We gotta lock up, baby.”
If you weren’t so upset, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, you’d be pissed at his comment. If he gave a shit about locking up earlier, you wouldn’t be crying right now with cum all over your face and an achy pussy. Instead, you’re too far gone. He guides you to the checkout counter, holding your arm tightly while you stumble on shaky legs, the world blurry to your wet eyes.
Reaching for the rag you use to clean the glass exit, you lift it to your face. Before you can clean the mess from yourself, Eddie’s hand grabs your wrist, halting your movements. “What are you doin’, dolly?”
“W–Wan–na b–be cle–clean,” you cry, sniffling.
“But you look so pretty like this,” he pouts.
“Don’t–don’t wanna lo–look like th–this.”
“How about this, how about you don’t wipe your face and I’ll bring you back to my place. We can clean you off there and then maybe you can get a treat. How does that sound, honey?”
“O–okay.”
“Good girl. Now close out the register, and let’s go.”
PLSPSLSPSLSPSLS MORE DARK!EDDIE ARTTFJDJSJKDJFH PLEASE😢
Devil Inside
KindaDark!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Reader
A/N: This is not very dark, more like dark!Eddie lite, I’d say. All he does is a little manipulation; he’s overall very sweet to you. If you want it darker, check this one out.
Smut so good it made the author wet fr, I'm not even kidding lmao. I’m really excited for you guys to read this, but I’m trying to prepare myself for low levels of interaction because I fear the label of ‘dark’ will turn people away—no matter how lite I made this. This is my second favorite fic I wrote in my ovulation haze. The nosferatu inspired smut takes first tho—which will probably be posted next after this one. I’ve literally thought about this idea for three years. The moment I saw Eddie and Jason on screen, I was like, ‘I need to read a fic where Eddie manipulates Jason’s girlfriend into fucking the freak’
Lastly, this was already written like last week, but I’m gonna claim this was inspired by Lady Gaga’s Coachella performance of Disease. Do yourself a favor and look it up—if you’re unafraid of horny gay feelings, that is.
Summary: Jason Carver sent his sweet, innocent girlfriend to pick up his ‘fix’ from the town freak—a big mistake on his part, but a glorious little surprise for Eddie. An even better surprise comes when he finds out you think you have to foot the bill.
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! Smut, cheating (not on Eddie), little bit of dark!Eddie, really Eddie’s just a pervy manipulator who’s kind of in love with you, unprotected anal, slut shaming (the girls of Hawkins—not reader), porn with very little plot, maybe dubcon but you’re fully consenting—you just don’t know Jason already paid, skewed idea of virginity (the classic: butt sex doesn’t count as losing it), virgin!innocent!inexperienced!reader, cream pie in the asssss, Eddie lowkey gets off on your pain but he’s overall very sweet, mentions of drugs and drug dealing, sex in exchange for goods, perv!Eddie, if I missed anything pls lmk
Masterlist
It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that Jason sent his pretty, innocent little girlfriend to collect his weed for him. And it wasn’t Eddie’s fault that you didn’t know Jason had already paid. Of course, being the sweet angel that you are, when Eddie informed you of the outstanding balance, you fretted over your lack of dollar bills. But Eddie’s a gentleman, he’d never make a lady pay…in cash, that is.
“And you’re sure he won’t find out?”
Eddie watches you fiddle with your fingers, then the hem of your skirt. You’re so worried Jason will somehow find out, but you’d rather risk that than get yelled at for failing to pick up the goods.
“No, of course not, angel,” he assures, tilting his head to catch your concerned gaze—god, he’s so hard.
“A–And it’s not…um…I’ll still be a virgin if we do it…”
A wicked grin spreads across his face—you can’t even say the words; he’s going to have so much fun with you. Jason should’ve never trusted The Freak with his girl.
“In the ass?” he supplies, relishing the little flinch you give at his lewd words. “Yeah, baby. You know…I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it before.”
His light tone eases your worries—this is no big deal, just a…well, a deal.
“All the girls do it ‘cause they wanna stay virtuous for their future husbands,” he waves his hands in the air, mocking the word ‘virtuous.’ Yeah, the girls of Hawkins are pretty virtuous. Taking it up the ass six ways to Sunday—that’ll get God to notice them, all right. “Just like you. You’ll still be all proper and…intact.”
His cock jumps in his pants at the idea that you’ll be any sort of ‘intact’ once he’s done with you. He feels like a predator luring prey into a trap—he’s never been harder.
“O–Okay. As long as…I just wanna give it to…someone I love,” you say shyly, almost embarrassed by the sentiment of saving yourself. You’re not quite sure if Jason is that someone, but he’s enough company for now.
It takes everything in Eddie not to growl at the way you’re like a little lamb—an unblemished fruit, ripe for the taking. Closing the space between you, he peels off his jacket, smirking as your wide eyes follow his every move. Once he lays the material down on the wooden bench of the old picnic table behind you, he gently guides you to kneel on the cushioned spot—your heart swooning at the realization that he wants you to be comfortable. He’s so nice—you really don’t understand why Jason’s always so mean to him.
With a large, warm hand between your shoulder blades, he guides you down to lean onto the table. “Have you ever done anything before, angel?”
Your face heats up at the intrusive question. Despite your current position, the answer feels more revealing. “Um…one time I let Jason touch me, b–but that’s–that’s about it.”
With your attention on the naked trees in front of you and the faintest glimpse of the school in the distance, he reacts the way he needs to—rolling his eyes back, looking to the sky, and thanking every obscure force and deity for the plentiful bounty they've so delicately placed in his grasp. Collecting himself, Eddie probes you for more information while he gently lifts your pleated skirt to rest on your lower back.
“Touch you where?” he asks, before shoving a white knuckle into his mouth, biting as hard as he can when he sees your pretty pink panties—a delicious wet spot right where your gorgeous little hole is, perfectly accentuating your folds.
Eddie doesn’t expect the haphazard motion you make to your breasts against the wood. He really thought Jason ‘The Creep’ Carver would’ve done more than just grope you—like make you suck him off or at least finger bang you underneath the bleachers, as is custom amongst your kind.
“Just there?”
You nod, “Yeah, I didn’t really wanna go any further. He was upset at me for a week after that…”
Your soft voice makes Eddie grit his teeth, clenching his jaw at the idea that you didn’t let your boyfriend of two years go any further than second base, but you’re going to let the town freak blow through all the bases and fuck your ass—this is the best day of his whole fucking life.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be very happy with you when you bring ‘im his fix. You ready, sweetheart?” His fingers wrap around the elastic waistband of your panties, slowly pulling the soft material down. He has to force himself to remain quiet as the last thing to drop is the fabric stuck to your wet pussy.
You nod, wiggling a bit to readjust on your knees; Eddie bites his lip at the sight, it’s like you’re taunting him. He wishes he could pull your panties off all the way, not just haphazardly shove them down your thighs. With you facing away from him, it would give him the perfect opportunity to bring the thin material to his nose and take a deep whiff. He’s pretty sure that would fix him…or make him worse—he honestly doesn’t care which.
The only sounds in the forest are the crunch of rustling leaves, the clinking of his belt as he undoes his pants, your bated breaths, and the distant chatter of teens meandering to their cars and buses, carried on the wind from the school. If any one of them tries to take a shortcut through the woods on their walk home, they’ll find Jason Carver’s girlfriend with her ass open for Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson—that thought has his stomach jerking with need.
Huffing out a breath, Eddie places both of his ringed hands onto your soft skin, spreading your cheeks to get a good look at what he’s sure will become his favorite place on earth. “Angel?”
You hum in response, ignoring the pitter-patter your heart makes at the nickname—Jason doesn’t really have any endearments for you, so you’re not used to such affection.
“I wanna make sure you feel okay, right?” You nod, urging him to continue. “Well, I need a little…lubricant…and I don’t think my spit is gonna do it.” He could certainly make it work, but he’s playing the long game here.
Eager to help, you softly suggest, “You can use my spit.”
Sighing, he realizes he should’ve known you’d offer that. Right. Changing direction. “Um, that’s very sweet o’you, honey. But…I think I’m gonna need a little more.”
Confused at what else there could be, you try to brainstorm. “Um…I don’t know…”
Eddie glances down at your wet cunt, arousal glistening in the late afternoon sun. He’s practically vibrating with need—he’s so damn close to a place no man has ever explored before and Jesus H. Christ, does he want to be the first.
Trying to restrain himself from shouting the answer or just taking what he needs, he sucks in a calming breath. “What if, um, we use some of the…” he has no clue how to go about this without sounding like this was his plan all along, “wetness, uh, between your…”
Peeking over your shoulder, you let out a noise of surprise. “Oh, uh…if that’s what would work. Um, I t–think that’d be fine. You won’t…go in, will you?”
At your hesitant words, he gives his cock a teasing squeeze, letting out a strained, “No, no, baby. Of course not. I’d never…Only if you wanted me to.” He adds on the last bit knowing it’s a shot in the dark.
“Eddie, you know I can’t. I’m with Jason,” you chide, looking back down to the weathered wood, restless fingers playing with a divot on the surface beneath you.
Worth a shot.
He shakes his head in disbelief, biting his lip; the cognitive dissonance you’re displaying at present is making his cock leak. He knew as soon as he first saw you—you’d be the perfect girl to play with.
“Right! I know, I know,” he hurries, enabling your need to feel virtuous. “So silly of me…”
He practically blows his load all over your ass when you quietly mutter your next words.
“Maybe if I saw you first…”
Fuck.
God, if you saw him first…
The shit he would’ve done to you by now, two years in…
It’d make a whore blush.
Though, he doesn’t feel like he missed out on much. You’re currently in a relationship with Jason, but you’re still bent over a table, your tight ass hole on display for him.
Dragging his mind back to the task at hand, he cautions you, “Now I won’t go inside, but I’m gonna need to go around. S’that okay?”
With another nod, you let out the sweetest string of words he’s ever heard. “I trust you, Eddie.”
Oh, you really shouldn’t, he thinks.
“Perfect, it’ll be just a second,” he mumbles, grasping his stiff cock and guiding it to your slit. He’s not strong enough to stop the beginning of a groan as he feels your wet arousal coat him in warmth. Luckily, he bites back the rest of the noise, not wanting to scare you off.
He’s thankful you can’t see his length because he’s certain that would really scare you off. He can tell how tight your cunt is just by the look of it—you’ve truly never had anything in there before. The fact that you’re letting him rub his bare, leaking cock on your pussy tells him you don’t know a thing about sex, either. All of his precum is mixing with your wetness to make a glorious milky substance and you’re going to go back to your boyfriend pretending to be untouched.
You’re already so wet and getting wetter by the second as he continues to drag his thick length through your fluttering folds. A high-pitched moan escapes your throat when the ridge of his head catches on your clit just right. A rope of precum nearly shoots out of his throbbing slit when you quietly apologize for your noise—god, you’re so fucking sweet.
It’s probably overkill at this point—he’s certainly wet enough to enter your ass, but he’s never been this close to a virgin’s pussy before. If he could just…
Eddie pushes his luck as he glances down, gripping his cock, and guiding the fat head to notch into your hole.
He almost shallowly cums inside of you when your entrance squeezes around his tip, trying to suck him in further. Despite your opening pulsing and luring him in, your voice snaps him out of it.
“Eddie!”
Your worried, shrill tone makes his hips buck unconsciously, sinking another centimeter into you, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within your chest. It takes everything in him to pull away, especially with the pretty sound you just made. Before he does, though, he wraps his index finger and thumb just below the ridge of his cockhead, giving himself a firm squeeze, hoping to leave your sweet cunt with a few drops of precum.
“Sorry, sorry–it got caught,” he lies, “My bad.” His chest is heaving with red-hot desire—he’s 100% going to think about this moment while he fucks his hand later.
“S’okay,” you mutter breathily, trying not to give in to the tingling butterflies his touch leaves behind.
“Gonna do it, now, okay?” His words are almost clinical because he doesn’t have to put on an air of romance for you—you’ve got a boyfriend to do all the fluffing for him.
With your quiet ‘mhm’, he starts to breach the tight ring of your ass. The second his soft tip presses into you, you’re moaning brokenly. You’re so tight, Eddie feels like his cock is being choked.
“Oh, god!” Your strained mewl echoes around the empty air, bouncing from tree-to-tree until it comes right back to Eddie’s ears—like music.
His tongue falls out of his mouth in focus as he spreads your cheeks wider, trying to help you take him. “Shh, shh, sweetheart. Don’t wan’ anybody finding out, do we,” he grits, forcing himself to give it to you slow.
You whine, shaking your head at his words, dropping it against the wooden table as you struggle to breathe through the pain. His mushroom tip is so big, you’re wincing as he mutters praises.
“There you go, angel. Takin’ me so well, I know s’hard. S’gonna be a tight fit.” Punctuating his sentence with a groan, he throws his head back as you yelp, feeling the exact moment his fat cockhead pops into your virgin hole.
“Eddie, Eddie,” you draw out his name in a whine, eliciting a small thrust from his brazen hips.
When he’s met with even more resistance than his initial breach, he tries to calm you down. “Angel, you’re doin’ so well for me, but you gotta relax, baby, you gotta relax.”
“I c–can’t, Eddie, s’too much!” The burn and stretch of his thick cock inside you is making your brain go fuzzy, eyes fluttering as you heave out a dry sob into the splintering wood.
“We can stop whenever you want–”
“No! I wan–I need to have the–the weed, he told me to get it, I need it!”
Thankfully he doesn’t have to manipulate you into staying, you’re already doing it to yourself. Spitting onto his length, he rubs the bubbly liquid in before pushing an inch deeper, swooning at the strangled moan you let out, your panting lips brushing against the old wood. “Okay, okay. We’ll keep going, but only if you want to…”
His cock—less than half-way inside—flexes as you nod messily, forehead scraping against the rough surface of the table. But that pain is the least of your concerns, what with the searing burn of your ass hole. You make the mistake of adjusting yourself on the table, accidentally sending your hips back onto him, taking another inch of his cock.
A pained mewl leaves your lips, “Eddie, it–it hurts!”
In his own little world—relishing his throbbing cock snug in your tight ass—he jerks his hips forward, forcing you to take the rest of him in one go, using the ‘rip the bandaid off’ approach. The broken half-scream that peels from your scratchy throat startles a few birds from the treetops, sending them fluttering away in fright.
“Yeah, baby. It’s supposed to, you’re not used to it yet–fuck–but you will be,” he promises, pulling back half-way and sinking in again.
Soon your pained moans turn into pleasured mewls as your body adjusts to his girth, stretching your unused hole to its limit. “Shit, angel, you feel s’fuckin’ good.”
Eddie’s groans of appreciation make you whine, unconsciously rolling your ass back against his pistoning hips. “Ed–Eddie, oh, god!”
His eyes roll in ecstasy, just picturing the way your dripping hole is clenching around nothing right now, needing to be stuffed. Maintaining a bruising grip on the junction of your hips, he fucks into you, hard. The strong force shoves you up the wooden table in time with his thrusts—your face dragging against the rough surface. He doesn’t let you go far, though, repeatedly yanking your ass back to meet his upper thighs causing a lewd slapping sound that surely gives you away—along with your barely contained moans.
“Fuck, you gotta be quiet. Gotta be quiet, baby, somebody’ll hear,” he grunts, as if he truly gives a shit whether he’s found out. He’d fuck you in front of the whole school if you’d let him.
Another mewling whine from you has his hips faltering in their rhythm. A few particularly hard thrusts cause you to stutter over your strained pleas, the words clawing their way out of your mouth in tune with the barreling of his cock. “B-But it feels, unh, s–s–s–so g–good.”
Your pitiful admission makes Eddie’s balls pull taut to his body, a sure sign that he’s not going to last another second. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, baby! Fuck, I’m cumming, oh, god–m’cumming!”
Relishing the flex of his cock as it twitches inside you, you whimper at his words—you’ve never heard a boy sound so anguished. For some reason, the sound makes your pussy ache, you wish you could clench your thighs.
Once Eddie finds his breath, he starts pulling out of you, eliciting a pathetic sounding whine from your panting lips. Before he fully leaves your sweet little hole, he makes sure to give himself another firm squeeze and a small tug—just to leave you with every last drop of his cum. He watches his milky seed ooze from your gaping ass, heaving out a content sigh before shoving himself back into his jeans. “Oh, fuck, angel…You really earned that weed for your boy, honey.”
The praise makes you preen, letting out the cutest whimper Eddie’s ever heard. He starts shimmying your panties up your thighs, hesitating, he takes a mental picture of the way your hole pushes out some of his spend as you clear your throat. Securing the thin material over your modesty, he slides a ringed hand between your cheeks, pressing the fabric into his cum, wedging it up your ass.
You jolt at his touch, taking the unsanctioned touch as a simple tease from your new friend. “Eddie,” you giggle, straightening up, and messily climbing off the table.
Your knees are still sore, despite his earnest attempt to bring you comfort by laying his jacket out for you. Once you stand up straight, skirt falling back down, you also realize how stiff your legs are—but another sensation takes precedence.
Shock takes over your face as you fling your hands behind you, pressing them both into your ass, a useless attempt to stop his seed from pouring out of you. “Oh my god!”
A grin stretches across Eddie’s features, his eyes alight as he takes in your little dance—you’re squirming, trying to squeeze your thighs together in an effort to mitigate the mess. “Yeah, sorry about that, sweetheart. Shoulda warned you. Your ass isn’t as…malleable as your pussy,” his grin broadens as your eyes widen at his salacious lesson. “S’gonna take a second to…shrink, for lack of a better word. Until then, you might feel a little…leaky,” he chuckles, reveling in the way your virgin ass hole took his massive cock—now you have to suffer the…gaping consequences.
Simply nodding your head, you continue to press both your panties and skirt into your ass, hoping they’ll soak up some of the wetness. Unsure why you want to know, you ask Eddie your burning question. “Did…w–was I good?”
His mouth parts in surprise at your question, but then a wave of giddy heat thrums through his whole body, relaxing his features into a pleased smile. Closing the short distance between you, he rubs his fingers across your cheeks, working his way up to the small scrape on your forehead. His eyes are full of awe, and you're going to have to come up with an excuse to your boyfriend about the random scrape on your otherwise unblemished skin—the thought causes his soft cock to twitch.
“You were so good, angel. I hate to say it, but Carver’s a lucky guy. He’s got such a devoted, loyal girlfriend.”
Too busy swooning at his soft touch and compliments, you completely miss the wicked glint in his eyes at the reminder of just how devoted…you are. The moment your body begins to sway, leaning into the heat of his chest with bated breath and heavy lids over wanting, wandering eyes, he pulls away—shattering the trance he had you under, leaving you nearly stumbling after him.
The clinking of metal draws your attention to a black lunchbox sitting on the wooden bench you hadn’t noticed until now. From inside it, Eddie pulls a small baggie of a dry, dusty green looking pile of…herbs? You’re pretty sure it’s the weed, but Jason never lets you partake, so you’re not 100% sure what the substance looks like.
“Here you are, sweetheart. And go ahead and tell your little boyfriend he can send you back anytime he wants,” he shoots you a flirtatious grin.
Taking the baggie from him, you try to fight the smile off your face, feeling bashful at his unending flirtation despite your numerous warnings. “Eddie,” you chide, only half-serious, now catching on to how playful your new friend tends to be.
Throwing his hands up in surrender, he cocks his head to catch your shy gaze, “I know, I know. I just happen to think you’re a much prettier face to strike a deal with.” He pushes his luck once more—he just can’t help himself. “How ‘bout this, I’ll cut the price in half if he sends you next time.”
Smiling, you shake your head at his audacity. “We’ll see. Thanks for…”
Fucking you?
Cumming in your ass?
Making your virgin hole his?
Letting you pay with your body?
“...Everything,” you finish, leaning up onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. It’s too bad you rubbed all your lipgloss onto the picnic table when you couldn’t stop panting and moaning into the old wood. But your soft lips still smell of cherries, so he’ll take it.
Pulling back, you meet his wide eyes. He's thankful his big brown irises generally give off a sad, puppy-dog look; otherwise, you'd probably catch onto the felonious hunger in his gaze.
“For being sweet,” you add on. The way your blackened lashes flutter at him—if he didn’t know how truly innocent you are, he’d think you’re giving him ‘fuck me again’ eyes. The sight has his cock stirring, already half-hard from just your chaste kiss.
“‘Course, angel.”
You seem to have almost a physical reaction when he uses the endearment on you outside of being in your ass. Your smile widens, body bristling with restlessness as he catches a glimpse of your thighs squeezing. It’s not lost on him that you didn’t get to cum. You’re probably so needy, you’re barely containing it in front of him. He knows how wet you are, he saw the aftermath.
Leaving you so worked up, on the edge of completion as your orgasm recedes like waves before a tsunami—he’s certain this won’t be his last time with you. He’s pretty sure you’re not about to go fuck your boyfriend, so maybe you’ll remember how welcoming and kind Eddie was and turn to him in your time of desperation.
You’ll be back. He’s almost certain of it.
A/N: That'll make your puthy throb. Reblog, like, and comment to support me and lmk your thoughts!!!!!!!!!!
MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS
SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck.
WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar.
Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS
Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.
No one was coming to save you.
You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.
He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?
You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?
He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.
When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.
Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.
“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.
The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.
“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.
Silence. Unlike him.
“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."
The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.
His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.
Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.
He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.
After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.
More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.
The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.
The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.
He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.
You took a much needed breath.
The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.
Your lower body was warm and stuffed.
Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.
You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.
Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.
You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.
As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.
But you didn't cry for help.
It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.
With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.
The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.
You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.
There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.
You spasmed with a whimper.
He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.
He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.
Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.
The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.
After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.
One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.
Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.
The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.
You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.
A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.
Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.
Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.
Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.
He returned with his hands full.
Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.
He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.
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thank you for reading 🖤
and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.
SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: please read bdsm kinks, choking, threesome, dom!draco, dom!fred, sub!reader, overstimulation, squirting, passing out, collar/leash is used, bondage, face fucking, gagging, slapping. this is one of my more bdsm extreme fics, please do not read if it makes you uncomfy <3
“I still think Ron would be a good pick.”
Fred’s voice was crisp as you rolled your eyes, sipping whatever butter beer mixture concoction he had created. “You’re only saying that because Ron doesn’t intimidate you,” You debated. You weren’t technically wrong, but Fred didn’t know your desired choice would be someone who did intimidate him. You adored Fred and every fiber of him. It was unlike you to desire more than just him, but a craving to be filled to the brim by two men was igniting a passion through your bones. So you both attended a Slytherin party, a noisy and uncontrolled affair. You could barely hear each other, nevertheless scope out a potential match. Fred was purposefully picking those he deemed to be ‘losers’.
After all he didn’t want competition, he wanted you to realize he was ultimately better and never want to try it again. But you were aware of your lovers inflated ego. Which is why when your gaze landed on the Slytherin prince, your lips curled upwards into a smile.
“I pick Malfoy.”
Fred spat out his drink, thankful his cup hadn’t stranded too far from his lips. “Malfoy? Have you lost your mind? Was there crack in your drink or something?” Fred asked. He dramatically grabbed your cup, examining its contents for any signs of tampering. “Freddie, just go up to him and ask. Worst he could do is say no,” You replied. Draco matched Fred’s energy in a way. Tall, assertive, dominant, and mean. You couldn’t ignore the way the thought of being between the two of them sent shock waves right to your core. Fred brushed his shirt off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed straight towards the snakes den. Draco was surrounded by his usual group, his eyebrows darting up at the sight of Fred approaching. The old childish beef the two had was long discarded, but that didn’t take away Draco’s distain for the whole Weasley family.
The war may have mellowed out the taunting, but nothing could reverse his father’s teachings. You watched Fred pull him away from the group, the two talking amongst each other. Through the spotty lighting you could make out Draco’s face going through a whirlwind of emotions. You wondered if this was a bad idea, contemplating if all of you being mature adults cancelled out any possible ridicule. You were surprised when Draco handed his muggle grass filled blunt back to Theo, exhaling as the two of them approached you. You tried not to appearance nervous, awkwardly setting your cup on a nearby table. Draco reached you first, staring down into your soul coldly. “I think this is a more private matter. Follow me,” He said. You trailed behind him, Fred following behind you. The pair were oddly quiet, as if they could read each others minds.
You swallowed as Draco led you both into his dorm, locking the door behind you. “Strip,” He commanded dryly. He seemed unamused as he dug a small velvet box out of his wardrobe. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to override the silence. “What?” You asked. Fred casually sat down in a nearby chair, man spreading as he did so. “You heard him, strip,” He agreed. Unsurely you followed suit, unzipping your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor. You stepped out of the shimmery material, stepping out of your heels as you did so. Draco glanced at you in his mirror, before scoffing. “Ditch the undergarments, you won’t need them,” He ordered. You felt goosebumps spread across your skin as you unhooked your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. You noted the cocky smirk that was painted across Fred’s lips, watching your every move as you kicked off your panties. “Lay on the bed darling,” Draco said flatly. He seemed to be looking for something specific as he rummaged through his box of mystery.
You did as told, your back relaxing as you laid against the velvet comforter. Draco handed Fred a handful of rope, the two exchanging a nod as your boyfriend approached you. He grabbed your ankle first, tying it to the bed frame. “What’s all this about?” You asked. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation. Fred remained eerily silent as he finished tying you up, spreading you out like a starfish. “Fredrick here decided to let me know that you are such a whore you aren’t satisfied with one cock,” Draco stated. Your eyes widened as you watched him pull out a collar, a shiny chain being pulled out right after. “So I told him that I specialize in taming whores and you need intense training,” He said, finally turning to you. He undid his emerald green tie, the collar and chain in the other hand. “So here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to play with you, as roughly as I want to. And just when you’re about to break, Fred’s gonna come join us, understand?” He asked. You nodded, embarrassed of how much your core was throbbing with desire.
Draco wadded up his tie, crawling on top of you.
“Open your mouth slut.”
Any hesitation Fred had about the whole ordeal faded at the sight of you eagerly opening your mouth. Your pupils were blown with lust, Draco roughly shoving the tie into your mouth. He then ran his hands down your body, admiring the way you melted under his touch. His fingertips were barely grazing your skin, your back arching off the bed in an attempt to get closer to him. Draco roughly grabbed your throat, shoving you back down. “Behave or I won’t let you cum,” He growled. Fred licked his lips as his cock began growing harder in his pants. Draco lowered himself in between your legs, using his index and middle finger to spread open your folds. You whimpered under his inspection, the blonde admiring your dripping cunt. “Such a pretty pussy for a cock whore,” He murmured to himself. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he smacked your folds, your arms and legs instinctively trying to close. He chuckled darkly as you struggled under the grip of the restraints.
“Nice and red now. I say we make them puffy, hmm?”
You moaned into the tie as he abruptly shoved two fingers into you, your wrists struggling against the restraints. He curled his slender fingers with precision, watching you intently as you grinding your hips against his hand. “So pathetic,” Draco mused. He lowered his mouth to your clit, causing a whole new feeling of pleasure to crash down over you. His tongue was an expert, flicking and his mouth sucking in all the right places. You wanted to clench your thighs around his head, to feel him against your skin. But he kept his distance, reminding you who was in charge as he devoured your cunt. Fred was purposefully watching in awe, refusing to touch himself until the time was right. If he was being honest he feared he would cum too fast to the pornographic sight before him. It wasn’t long before the knot inside of you tightened, your warnings muffled by the tie. Draco grinned in sadistic satisfaction as you came, your heart pounding as he pulled away from your cunt.
Mockingly he opened your folds again, shaking his head. “Not red enough,” He concluded. As if the two were able to read each other’s minds Fred rose from his chair, rummaging through the mysterious velvet box. He pulled out a black vibrator, nonchalantly handing it to Draco. The blonde was quick to turn it on, purposefully placing it on the highest setting. Your whines were muffled as he placed it on your clit, your thighs trembling at the sensation. “Awe what’s wrong darling? Can’t handle a simple toy?” He asked mockingly. Your eyes screwed shut, shocks of pleasure running up your spine. A sharp slap to your thigh made your eyes reopen, a stern look painted across Draco’s face. “Eyes open slut. You close them again and i’ll leave you here for Mattheo and Theo’s entertainment,” He snarled. You whimpered at the thought, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards and grinding shamelessly against the vibrator.
“Cmon slut i’m getting bored,” Draco sighed. He lifted up your folds, placing the vibrator directly on top of your abused clit. Your back arched off of the mattress, your legs shaking violently as you released. Juices you weren’t familiar with squirted from your cunt, your eyes wide as you panted. Draco smirked, looking over at Fred. “I say we ruin her now, what do you think?” He asked. The same mischievous smirk crossed Fred’s lips, the two approaching you. You were dazed as they rearranged you, your elbows and knees digging into the comforter. Draco removed the gag from your mouth, your lungs instantly inhaling as much oxygen as they could. A cold leather collar was secured around your neck, the sound of the chain rattling sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up, Draco glaring down at you. “Open up your mouth,” He barked. Fred yanked on the chain, forcing you to balance yourself on your hands.
Lazily you flattened your tongue out across your bottom lip, Fred’s familiar hands massaging the mounds of your ass. “Fuckin slut, wanting to suck another mans dick?” Fred spat coldly, slapping your ass. Your gasp was the perfect opportunity for Draco to shove himself inside of your mouth, your noise muffled.
“What a dirty cumslut,” Draco sneered, grabbing a handful of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, feeling Fred slide into you with ease. “You’re this fuckin wet? Over being used and abused? Filthy,” Fred growled. Tears flooded your waterline as Fred bottomed out, the ginger not hesitating to repeatedly thrust into you. Draco grinned sadistically as he began his own fun, forcing your jaw to go slack as he face fucked you. As Draco abused your throat Fred yanked at the leash, restricting your airway. You felt light headed, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth as both boys spat degrading profanities. You couldn’t breathe, your vision becoming spotty. Unable to tell them you arched your back, fully leaning onto the collar for support. Your head began to spin, the feeling of another orgasm rising quickly. It didn’t take long for Fred’s warm cum to fill your cunt, or for the taste of Draco’s salty cum to flood your throat. Their strong hands kept you upright, your body shaking as your final orgasm sent you into an unavoidable darkness.
The unlikely duo stared down at your unconscious body, a thick bruise forming around your neck from the collar. Your cunt was red and puffy, full of Fred’s seed. It dripped down your thighs as you peacefully slept, your body spent. It was satisfying in a way, seeing you so content after destroying you. “We should do this again sometime,” Draco said, redressing himself. Fred shot him a dirty look, putting his shirt back on. “Are you suggesting you fuck my girlfriend again?” He asked.
Draco brushed stray hairs out of your face, his caring expression mirroring Fred’s.
“Maybe. But she wants me just as bad. We can make it her perfect double fantasy.”
BEWARE: DARK THEMES BELOW. CONCEPTS MAY BE GRAPHIC OR UNPLEASANT. MIND THE WARNINGS.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. ALL MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED. STRICTLY 18+ ONLY.
MAY INCLUDE: KIDNAPPING, RAPE, INTOXICATION, AND OTHER GRAPHIC THEMES.
OCTOBER 1ST — DOCTOR!KÖNIG. Being drugged and used relentlessly by someone you thought you could trust. (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 2ND — RAPIST!SIMON. You should've known better. Walking around with an ass like that in such a skimpy, revealing dress... What were you thinking? (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 3RD — KIDNAPPER!PRICE. What did you expect, Birdie? Now, you'll be pimped out and tortured by a depraved sicko, because of your stupidity. (KIDNAPPING, GANGRAPE)
OCTOBER 4TH — WEREWOLF!GAZ. A helpless lamb shouldn't be wandering around the forest this late at night, should they? (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 5TH — DENTIST!SOAP. Who would've thought that a simple, quick dentist visit would end in tears and a bloody mess? (KIDNAPPING, NON-CON, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS)
OCTOBER 6TH — ELDRITCH!KÖNIG. Never in a million years would you expect to be held hostage by an intimidating monster, desperate to breed with a human like you. (MONSTER-FUCKING)
OCTOBER 7TH — STALKER!KÖNIG. You should've trusted your gut feeling. Now, you're chained to your bed inside of your own apartment, being bred relentlessly by a large, masked figure. (FORCED BREEDING, NON-CON)
OCTOBER 8TH — STEPBRO!KÖNIG. You shouldn't trust such a perverted social recluse. Now, here you are, sucking off your stepbrother hoping that he'll keep quiet. (BLACKMAIL)
OCTOBER 9TH — RAPIST!KÖNIG. He has sickening and disturbing urges, a growing crave for control. This should teach you to not wander the streets this late as a woman. (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 10TH — STALKER!SIMON. You knew that something felt off, that lingering impending doom chasing you, ‘til it was all too late. (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 11TH — STEPDAD!PRICE. Your mother loves that man. You can't break her heart, let her know how sinister, perverted, and deplorable his behaviour truly is. (NON-CON)
OCTOBER 12TH — PERVERT!SOAP. Oh, forgive him, Bonnie. You know he can't help himself, and you look so adorable like this; knocked out cold and mumbling incoherently, pleading with him for mercy. (NON-CON, DRUGGING)
OCTOBER 13TH — PERVERT!GAZ. How can he not take advantage of you like this, under the influence and giggling blissfully? He'll take care of you, Dove. (DUB-CON, INTOXICATION)
OCTOBER 14TH — SOMNOPHILIAC!KÖNIG. He uses your body to cope with the reoccurring, horrifying, and haunting nightmares he has, Liebling. Forgive him, please...
OCTOBER 15TH — NERD!KÖNIG. You know how fascinated he is with knives, as well as his growing and intensifying obsession with you. Why not combine both, press a knife to your throat while using your body? (DUB-CON)
OCTOBER 16TH — STEPDAD!KÖNIG. You're even better than your mother; tighter, quieter, and younger, with a pliable mind easy to morph to fit his sickening beliefs. (DUB-CON)
Loser!König WILL correct your grammar while arguing with each other over text, and will completely ignore the valid points you make about him being unavailable.
You probably found this through a bimbo tag, so let me just ask!
You doing alright? Have you been staying hydrated? Are you...hungry? Maybe you need to do some other self care like, I dunno...shaving!
Well, either way. I'm so proud of you! I bet you're the prettiest lil thing, I really do. Remember, you're more than that too! Offline at least, hehehe.
Take a hug, a kiss, and maybe a box of my Bimbo-Lipstick. Hehehehehehe.
Synopsis: Our reader is walking back to her car one night when she witnesses a murder committed by none other than two of the most famous Avengers. Well, the Avengers aren’t quite what they used to be in this universe; they are mercenaries, little better than the criminals they pursue. As a witness to this event, will the reader be found out or will she forever live in a world of fruitless paranoia.
Warnings: A dark!fic feat. dark! versions of both Bucky and Steve. Mostly Bucky x reader but later involves more Steve. This series will heavily involve noncon elements, explicit sex (including with more than one partner), and is strictly 18+.
mmmm ;) simon has got a special eye on single-mom!reader, doesn't he? (18+, lactation kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, dark content !!!!)
it's your first day back after maternity leave. you already look different, simon notices this immediately. the way you fill out your cargo pants--fuck, there's no way your arse has ever looked so fat. no way your thighs have ever been so plush--ngghhh...
fuck, you've never been prettier. motherhood suits you. your hair is longer. your eyes are a little brighter. and fuck, your tits look so heavy, can't keep his eyes off of them, can't fucking focus, fuck, fuck, fuck--
you look so cute patching him up. pouty bottom lip between your teeth as you string his lacerated skin back together with a practiced stitch, standing between his spread legs as he sits in a chair in your office. he nicked his shoulder real well in training today, and fuck, is he grateful for johnny's heavy hand because you're standing over him, and he has a front-row seat to the greatest view of his fucking life.
christ, they practically jiggle with every movement you make. you pop the cap off some disinfectant, and the little bounce of your chest makes him chub up immediately, and he doesn't trust the buckle of his belt anymore because you're so fucking hot. and god, it isn't fair, this isn't fair, you must be teasing him--because as he's staring shamelessly at your pretty, perky nipples, he notices the fabric of your shirt beginning to grow damp.
you notice his line of sight after you tie off his wound. you look down, gasping, your hands dropping your supplies to come up and cup your breasts and cover the wetness of your shirt.
"god--dammit," you breathe. you haven't gotten a chance to pump today, it's been so busy in the clinic, and god, they ache.
you're his sergeant. his pretty little soldier. he just wants to help you. he's just helping you, isn't he? that's what this is when he draws his big hands up, shifting your shirt until it nestles below your nursing bra. he's just helping you when he unlatches the strap with ease, drawing down the soft material and baring your tits for him, his eyes bulging when he sees how wet the skin is, how they glisten.
his mouth is so warm. it's the perfect relief after such a long day. his tongue is soft and careful, swirling in heated circles as he soothes the ache in the throbbing fat there. you're so wet--soaking your panties, you know you are, your hormones firing wildly as he pulls back, opening his mouth and catching just a dribble of the warm essence that leaks from one breast. finally, finally--fuck, he's so good at this, his mouth latching onto you again as he groans loudly. he's so sick, it's so fucking lewd, but god dammit, it's just what you need, you need this, you need this.
he likes you like this. he likes you fat around the hips and leaking from your tits and spilling sweetness into your panties. he needs to keep you this way. he needs to keep you pretty and aching and starving for the relief that he knows he can give you.
he doesn't care whose kid it is, he wants to keep you this way. he'd let johnny or gaz fuck you stupid after this if it meant plugging you up and making you full and beautiful and round again. he's never wanted kids anyway, he knows he probably shoots blanks, it's why you got pregnant so fast after he shut the door on your relationship and refused to open it again, isn't it?
nnghghhgh...
fuck, his pants are already shoved low, just enough that he can pull himself out. he's so heavy, balls so full and aching so badly, he's hardly slapping against his stomach. you slip your own trousers off, eager to get back into his lap, practiced pretty girl sinking down onto him and riding him for her life in the dark of her office.
he buries his face into your chest. they're bouncing every time you smack your hips back down against his, and he can't stop the noises he's making as he suckles your tits in his mouth and uses a firm grip on your ass to meet your thrusts with force. fuck, he'd forgotten what a nice cunt you had--he'd forgotten how nice and soft you are, how messy and wet you get, how whenever he fucks you, his entire pelvis is always soaked with the slick of you because you can never stop creaming on his cock.
"so big," you babble, just like you used to, and he grunts as he aims for that little spot inside of you that makes you cry. he wants to see those pretty tears falling down your face, but all it took this time was his tongue sucking on your achy nipples to make you pouty and sobbing.
fuck, you've always been good at taking him, you always were such a good girl, but now he's overwhelmed. your body is so different and yet the same, and he likes it so much more--fuck, there's so much to grab onto now, the smacking of your skin is loud, and you've always been such a wet girl, but now you're positively dripping. he grits his teeth as he looks down finally, watching the way you've wet his trousers, his boxers, your thighs, the goddamn chair. he can't wait to lay you down after this and put his head between your thighs, can't wait to get those tits back in his mouth and make you cry again and again and again and again--
yeah, yeah, yeah--fuck, fuck, fuck--
you collapse after he cums. whimpering, taking two of his fingers and fitting them into your mouth so you have something to suck on, something you always used to do for comfort. he hisses a little as he pulls out just a little, globs of cum dribbling onto the seat before he eases you back down again. you whine, clinging onto him, your eyes shutting as he shoves his cum practically into your stomach.
yeah, fuck--he's gonna make his little sergeants take you nice after this. he needs you to stay like this, needs to keep you fat and pretty and swollen. don't mind the chunky babies you'll have, he'll take care of you, sweetheart, he'll be the daddy that son of a bitch never gave you, yeah?
he grabs the phone nearest to him to check the time as you settle on wobbly legs into the seat next to him. it must be your phone, because there's a picture of a smiling baby as the background. his eyes flicker to yours, and when you catch his gaze, you swallow hard. there's a giant chubby baby you're holding in that picture.
gIvE mE yOuR bAbY !!!!!!! (previous part, dark?reader x ghost, 18+ !!!!!)
you throw the pregnancy test angrily into the trash. you're staring at the mirror now, practically snarling at your reflection. you've been fucking your lieutenant for weeks now, and nothing.
nothing, nothing, nothing.
the fucking brute doesn't even want a baby--he's appeasing you, giving into you, but you know it won't be long until your lieutenant becomes just a little coherent and realizes he might not want this, might not need this, not as much as you.
but you're focused. it's him, god dammit, and it will be him. no matter what.
it's late, but you make your way across base anyways. there's no one around, not even the crickets, or maybe the rushing in your ears is too loud for you to hear anything but your beating heart. you fit your key into the lock, shoving his door open, and you see the sorry bastard sleeping in his cot.
he's fully clothed, the paranoid little shit. his belt is nowhere to be found, and he had the good idea to leave his tact vest on the floor by the door, but he's still wearing his cargo pants and a standard issue shirt, his mask hanging off his fingertips. he snores loudly, his nose broken too many times to offer him a night of quiet sleep, and it angers you to see him so peaceful.
you shut the door and lock it, taking the band off of your wrist and tying your hair up before shoving your pants off and tossing your shirt into the corner of the room. you reach over him, undoing the button of his pants and shoving them low. he blinks away the sleep from his eyes just as you straddle him, trying to get his pants just that much lower on his hips.
"the fuck are y'doin'?!" simon growls, his hands gripping your hips on instinct.
"i'm not pregnant," you snap. "now shut up and do what you do best. take these--" you yank on his pants again, but he's more than two hundred pounds of solid fat and muscle, and your tugs don't even budge, not even a little. "--take your fucking pants off!"
he grunts as he finally lifts his hips enough to pull them just low enough. you whine with relief, slipping a hand over him, spitting on his cock before spreading it over his thick length. he hisses, leaning his head back, chubbing up immediately.
"christ," he groans, licking his lips. "never gets old."
"yeah, daddy?" you coo, leaning down and kissing him wet. "'s too bad it hasn't taken yet..." you pout a little. "it's not working, why isn't it working?"
"'cause y'pout too much," simon scoffs. "y'r such a brat."
you whimper, pulling your panties to the side, scooting up as you sink down on his cock easily. you're positively sopping, and he breaches your cunt without much resistance. you fall over him, your hands on either side of his head, and you rock your hips gently as he gets even harder now that he's inside of you.
"simon--" you cry, leaning your head back. "i just want it so bad..." you start to bounce, your eyes rolling back as you hear the smack of your ass against his thighs. "want your baby, simon..."
"ackk..." he hisses. "i know. i know y'want it, luv. ahhh--cunt's beggin' fer it."
you nod, your eyes fluttering shut, and you keep up the pace, the squeak of his cot rattling as you throw your hips back harder.
"fuckin' hell, swee'eart..." he grits his teeth. "really workin' for it..." he chuckles breathlessly, reaching back and gripping your ass with both hands, easily supporting you to bounce a little harder with just the flex of his arms. "fucked ya just this mornin', and y'r already cryin' for me..."
you reach down and grip his jaw, licking over his bottom lip.
"need it all the time," you whisper against his lips. "n-need to be full...a-always..."
simon hums, nodding, "yeah? tha' wot it is? not fillin' y'r cunt often enough, tha' wot y'r sayin', baby?"
you kiss him hot and heavy, your hips bouncing a little more frantically as you lick into his mouth. all teeth and tongue, all wet and slobbery, positively drunk on the way his cock punches into you. you're needy and angry and so, so desperate for it, and you need all the time, need him to just, please, please, please, keep me this full all the time, please--!
"y'r such a needy little girl," he growls. "always so wet..."
"shut the fuck up, simon, and just cum--!" you gasp, cut off by the smack to your ass that he chides you with.
"y'listen t'me--" he grips where your hair is tied up, yanking on it, forcing your neck back and baring the soft skin to him. he sits up, shaking you practically, manhandling you until you're underneath him now, scratching at his biceps as you try to gain control again. it's pointless, really--he can pin you down with one burly leg, and he's got the weight of his entire body holding your hips down as he forces his cock so deep, you feel him right in your stomach. "listen t'me, little brat, you'll get wot i give ya, and you'll like it, yeah? you'll take it, and you'll say thank you, lieutenant, olright?"
you whine, pushing your hips back, feeling the heat of him, and you don't stop crying until he cums. it isn't even about getting off yourself; you just need to be full of him, all the time, always, whenever he's near.
you lose none of your enthusiasm. simon wakes up with your mouth wrapped around his thick cock, and he falls asleep with you pushing back against him as he fucks you from behind. you grab him by the vest as he passes by where you're hidden in a supply closet, and you fuck him fast and hard before sending him off to training again. you slip into his office and take him on his desk, crowd him in the corner of the room that you both are sitting in when you're out in the field. you give him no room to breathe, you just force his trousers as low as holsters will let you and fuck him until he gives you what you need.
"insatiable little girl," he always says into your ear, but you can't help it. your lieutenant is not just your certified baby daddy, he's everything you've been looking for in a man. disgusting, all brute strength, a taker, selfish, obsessed. he isn't normal, and you adore that--you fucking hate normal. you don't want someone passive and sweet, you want someone possessive and a little fucked up, and it's just a bonus that his cock matches his size and that he knows exactly how to use it to make you boneless and feral.
he's just so hot. rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, you drool at the sight of his tattoo sleeve. as he gets dressed in the morning, you catch a glimpse of his bare ass, and you have to fuck yourself on your fingers to refrain from making him any later. seeing him smirk under the mask, it drives you insane, especially when he gives you those eyes--the eyes that say fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. you especially love him making his way back after an op, his body hot under his gear and smelling like sweat and sand and smoke. you lick the ash off his fingers and make him fuck you with his mask stuffed into your mouth because you want to taste the essence of him at his most authentic--adrenaline hungry and bloodthirsty.
"gonna milk me fuckin' dry," he murmurs one evening, running a thick hand over his length. you lay beside him and mewl, your knees still open from when he was just on top of you. your back arches as you feel his spend dribbling out onto the bed, and you reach down and use your fingers to stuff it back inside. as he massages himself, he grunts, the squelch of your slick making it easy for him. "twice olready, 'n y'wanna go again, tha' it?"
you give him big eyes, squirming under his gaze. you slip your fingers out, putting them into your mouth and sucking soft. when you let them go, you smile at him lazily.
"yes, daddy," you whisper, nodding. "p-please...please give me more..."
he chuckles, breathless, and he nods.
"woteva y'want, baby. turn over. give it t'me."
fuck, it makes you so wet all over again to hear him say it. to hear him tell you that you can have it all, have all that you want, that he'll give you whatever you need. it makes your head spin, it makes you dizzy and giggly. you've only ever heard him bark orders outside of this room, but when you're alone, he caters to you and only to you--he's wrapped around your finger, and he doesn't know it, and it makes you positively hungry and satiated all at the same time. hungry for more of it, satisfied knowing it's yours and only yours.
it's days later, when he has you cock-drunk (again) and utterly exhausted that he speaks to you again, really speaks. he smooths a hand over your stomach, pulling back your hips until you're nestled under his arm and pressed back to chest against him. he nuzzles his nose against your jaw, kissing under your ear.
"y'not pregnant yet?" he murmurs. "y'sure of tha'?"
you close your eyes, humming as you nestle into the warmth that he gives off. you shrug, trying to blow it off, trying to seem nonchalant and unbothered. you don't know what he'll do once he finds out. you don't know if he'll push you away, knowing he's given you what you asked for. you want to stay like this, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss of simon's incredible fucking, and you want to think of nothing else but gathering enough energy to do it all over again.
you can tell him about the positive pregnancy test later. right?
"guess not," you whisper, and you moan unexpectedly when you feel him chub up against your ass. fuck, he can go for hours--his stamina knows no bounds.
he doesn't tell you that he found that little test, in a plastic baggie stuck behind the extra toilet paper in the bathroom. instead he grins wide, knowing you've lied, and he hikes up your knee as he pushes into you.
"hmmm..." he growls in your ear. "then we won't stop. won't fuckin' stop until y'ave it. until y'r tits are fat, and 'm fuckin' sure y've got m'baby there--" he cups your pussy as he bottoms out, swirling two fingers around your puffy, abused clit. you nod, slipping his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them desperately.
you won't stop. you'll never stop. you'll never let him go.
> simon and his unabashed adoration for his princess <33
!! suggestive - minors dni (ratings change but overall, simon’s thirst is unmatched); age gap (30s v 20s); no chronological order (loosely-tied worldbuilding)
: another series i didnt expect to gain traction or for me to actually write so much for!! i adore bimbo!reader, she deserves the world :’>
for all posts, pls click at the bimbo!reader tag <33
part 01 - intro post; smut
part 02 - strawberry shortcake perfume
part 03 - simon sonny; ask
part 04 - his thumb on her lips; ask (p link!); smut
part 05 - reduced to whimpers; ask (p link!); smut
part 06 - boo tomato tomato tomato @fratboy; suggestive
part 07 - christina n kisses; smut
part 08 - instagram account <33
part 09 - trembling hands and crochets
part 10 - his darling petal; ask (p link!); smut
part 11 - do you love me?
part 12 - simmy, penguin, rocks!; ask
part 13 - acrylics and surprises; ask | recent
-
extra 01 - her hyperfixations; ask
extra 02 - jewels n cuffs; ask
extra 03 - super shy!!
extra 04 - chupi chapa
extra 05 - johnny as her bff; ask
extra 06 - dick grabbers <3; ask
extra 07 - kuromi pillow for u!!; ask
extra 08 - their radio (a ramble); ask
extra 09 - clingy!!; ask
extra 10 - little touches; ask
extra 11 - her little swatching palette; ask
extra 12 - the toughest baby girl; ask | recent
i have a short taglist so pls lmk if you would like to be tagged too ^v^ no more taglist
Lets just say it took Simon a little while to get used to your wardrobe....or lack thereof
The first few months of dating consisted of him pointedly trying to not stare at the smooth planes of your skin that was always on display, hurriedly looking away after being caught which would leave him to have an internal battle with himself about being a gentleman
...And as your relationship progressed...that behavior definitely didn't last long, it was like a flip had been switched
Doing everyday tasks in the house become increasingly difficult due to how much his hands are on you, he has no shame and will casually grope your tits while youre doing dishes and shoves his hands in your panties. Which you half scold him for every time that obviously ....he ignores. He knows you love it just as much as he does
Sitting you in his lap is a easy favorite for him. Your head laid back on his shoulder with your hands secured around his neck, legs spread wide open on his thighs. Giving him unlimited access to your pretty body
Always starts with teasing your plump thighs while playing with ur tits that are bursting out of your top. Paired with sucking hickies on your neck and you're already a trembling mess on top of him.
Bonus if he does it in front of the floor length mirror he bought exactly for this purpose, he loves making you watch as he fucks you dumb with his cock or fingers :(. Telling you to watch yourself or you won't cum.
Watches himself slamming into you with ur skirt bunched around ur hips, boobs swaying with each thrust as you cry out because his fat cock is just too much for you. Calling you a teasing whore as he gets rougher because you know what your outfits do to him, and he doesn't stop till your cunt is stuffed to the brim with his cum and dripping down your thighs . Also fucks you in doggy in front of the mirror too. Holding both wrists in one hand while the other slaps your ass red :(. Drool escaping the corner of your plump lips becuz ur just his lil fucktoy.
Adores seeing you on your knees for him in one of your outfits. Wrapping a fistfull of your perfect Bow adorned hair in a punishing grip as he fucks your throat. Your mascara running down your red cheeks and lipstick smeared because reducing you to a disheveled whore does it for him.
Simon likes it messy. Drool dripping down your neck and soaking your top messy, gagging you on his dick till your eyes roll back in ur empty head :(. And if you're not crying he isn't doing it right.
Spills his load on your waiting tongue and makes sure you swallow it all,or he'll paint your face white depending on his mood <3.
Has a thing for you keeping on ur heels while your legs are thrown over his shoulders as he devours your slick pussy n the way they sink into his back.Skirt still around your hips. Spitting on your throbbing clit and sucking it into his mouth while broken gasps of his name leaves your lips. Thick fingers sinking into you as the unmistakable sound of your arousal echoes around the room :(. You're drowning in too much pleasure to care. Licks up every bit of your cum and will even overstimulate you right after an orgasm becuz that's what his girl deserves.
Dirty talk. He'll call you things like cocktease, doll, bunny or my pretty pink whore while he's slamming you into the mattress. Makes it a point to remind you that you're his little toy and his only :(, free for him to use whenever he wants because you're his. And that the only thing you should be thinking of is being pretty and taking Daddy’s cock <3
AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this because I wasn't too sure about it :p,bye and thanks for reading<3🎀
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