HP Kinktober

A blog for the annual Harry Potter themed Kinktober fest | AO3 Collection | FAQ and Prompt List

[hpkinktober]

HP Kinktober will be running for 2023! All HP pairings and ships are welcome. We're not sure if we'll be able to do daily graphics/posts of the prompts this year, so save this list!

AO3 Collection: HPKinktober2023 Tumblr: hpkinktober

Rules:

1. Please tag your fics as accurately as possible. 2. Due to the nature of this fest, this is 18 and up only.

More information and the list of prompts can be found below the break.

It's encouraged that you post on the day of the prompt if possible, but you can really post whenever you want. Prompts can be combined all into one fic, written as one-shots, or mix and match—it’s all up to you!

All HP pairings and ships are welcome.

Hosted by: @manixzen, @anaxandria-writes, and @withgreatelan

This collection is open and unmoderated, so viewer discretion is advised, and please tag your works as accurately as possible.

Daily Prompts

1. Devil's snare 2. Orgasm Denial 3. Werewolves 4. Cockwarming 5. Firewhiskey 6. Collaring 7. Sex Pollen 8. Pensieve 9. Omegaverse 10. Mandrakes 11. Dragons / Dragon Eggs 12. Breathplay 13. Bathing 14. Voyeurism 15. Owl Post 16. Wings 17. Closets 18. School Uniform 19. Dungeons 20. Breeding 21. Brooms 22. Legilimency 23. Monsterfucking 24. Power Imbalance 25. Portkey 26. Bondage 27. Room of Requirement 28. Remembrall 29. Knotting 30. Formalwear 31. Aftercare

Alternatives (Can be swapped out for any day) Alt 1: Object Insertion Alt 2: Age Play Alt 3: Threesome (or more) Alt 4: Wandless Magic

[hpkinktober]

hey there! I was just curious when the 2024 prompts are being released. It's not even september and i'm already thinking about kinktober lmao

Hi! So sorry for the delay—I missed this message. Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to run for 2024 for personal/life reasons.

[schmem14]

Day 31: Object Insertion

Summary: Arthur receives a tip from Ron about a hidden room at Malfoy Manor and decides to have a look... Pairing: Arthur Weasley/Lucius Malfoy CW: Infidelity, COS Canon-compliant, Come as Lube, Dry orgasm Rating: E

written for @hpkinktober

[sailtomarina]

A Travesty to Remedy

Pansy x Ron | Kinktober Day 31: “Aftercare”cw: sex, referenced cum kink

The first time they had sex, Ron had rolled off of her, understandably exhausted after their vigorous romp that took them across the entirety of her flat, starting in the elevator, down the hallway, through her door, on the entrance floor, against the wall, and finally in her bedroom where they now lay.

Pansy had zero complaints up until that point—if anyone had asked her opinion throughout, difficult given her gasping and groaning, she would have praised Circe above for the gift of Ronald Weasley’s glorious cock. He had the length to plumb into the deepest parts of her and the girth to rub against everything that mattered. 

And the rest of him?

That arse, so curved and tight and just asking to be squeezed, trunk-like thighs from years of gripping a broomstick, and the broad, freckle-dusted shoulders of a professional Quidditch keeper. 

So, yes, Pansy was more than satisfied. She’d been shagged within every inch of her life, the soreness present and satisfying in its testament to his endurance.

Then came the snore.

The arm she’d thrown over her face in ecstasy came down and she slowly turned to stare at him.

He’d fucked her every which way, filled her with enough cum to take up an entire swimming pool, cast a cleaning spell on only himself, then fallen asleep like some kind of barbarian. He slept on his stomach, limbs splayed in all directions, and his mouth hung open expelling the most harrowing sounds Pansy had ever heard. All of her exhaustion transformed into rage.

She did the only logical thing she could have done at that moment.

Thwack, thwack!

The pillow she used as her weapon had a delightful, expensive weight to it that she used to full potential as she thumped him over the head with it.

“What?” He awoke with a snort. “What’s going on? Why are you hitting me?” he yelped, curling into a ball and covering his head with his arms. 

It would have been a comical sight if Pansy wasn’t so pissed off at him. She continued to smack him with the pillow, spitting out insults until he lost his patience and grabbed onto the other end to wrestle the weapon out of her grip to toss across the room. In another deft move, he’d pinned her beneath him, his piercing blue eyes looking directly into her own.

“What,” he grabbed her wrists in one hand, holding them above her head, “is,” he then grabbed her hair in the other fist to force her to maintain eye contact, “your problem?”

She willed all the scorn she could into her glare, then rolled her hips upward against him.

“Bloody witch,” he muttered, tilting his head to nip at her neck. “Crazy, insatiable—”

“That is not what I meant, Weasley,” she snapped.

“Oh, it’s back to ‘Weasley’ now, is it?” He returned to glaring at her, both hands tightening their hold on her.

“It is if you’re going to treat me like some Knockturn whore.” At his look of confusion, Pansy wrapped her legs around one muscled thigh and slid her dripping cunt against him. He jerked like he meant to pull away from her, and her scowl deepened.

“What the fuck, Pansy? What do you think you’re doing?”

Absolutely clueless.

All of her irritation vanished as quickly as it had arrived, and she found she didn’t care anymore. Her legs dropped down and she stopped straining against him. Sensing her change in mood, Ron slowly let go and sat back on his haunches.

“This was fun and all, but I think you should go.” Not wanting to waste a second more on him, Pansy cast a wandless scourgify on herself and yanked up the sheets in clear dismissal.

She waited until he’d gathered his things and exited before she threw the blankets back and headed straight for her desk.

She had a letter to write.

“What do you mean he doesn’t do aftercare?” Pansy asked, appalled at what she’d just heard come out of Hermione’s mouth.

The two had agreed to meet following Pansy’s message, and they now sat outside of a quaint little cafe, sunshine warming their table. Hermione nibbled at her sandwich before replying.

“He offered at first, of course, but I asked him to leave it. I…like…the mess.” She winked and took another bite.

Pansy dropped her teacup on its saucer with a clatter that would have had her mother swooning at the ill manners of it.

Swotty Hermione Granger had a cum kink.

She’d dated Ron for years.

She was now engaged to Pansy’s best friend.

“You little cumslut,” she breathed, visions of Hermione and Draco crowding her mind in an unwanted assault.

“So, no, unless told directly, I suspect Ronald won’t understand what you need unless you tell him directly,” Hermione continued with a prim voice, taking another sip of her tea. The smile she aimed at Pansy from behind the porcelain curled up at the edges like a cat playing with its food.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the witch and considered her advice.

“What makes you think he’ll still be interested in me?” He hadn’t even protested her throwing him out. He’d just dressed in silence and left without another word, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

“Oh, he’s interested. Owl him and you’ll see.”

Lunch passed quickly once Pansy resolved to do just that. She turned down Hermione’s offer to hear more about Ron. She preferred to find out all his preferences and oddities on her own, and she wouldn’t make the mistake of assuming anything about the fool wizard again.

A part of her felt guilty for acting out the way she had, but the notion of the man who’d brought her to orgasm that many times not following through with a basic cleansing spell, much less a damp towel, infuriated her.

It didn’t stand to reason. This was a travesty that required immediate remedy.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep this time,” Pansy demanded from her perch above him.

Sleepy eyes looked up at her, fighting to stay open. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I don’t want to be attacked again.” His face contorted as he struggled to hold back a yawn.

“I spoke with Hermione.”

Ron started to sit up, but Pansy put all her weight down onto the hands still pressed against his chest, and he allowed her to keep him in place.

He huffed, now fully awake. “What about?”

“She told me that she basically trained you to never clean up.” As her words sank into him, a pink blush worked its way up his face and across his chest. “But there’s much more to aftercare than just jizz and juice.”

He cleared his throat a few times before he was able to respond. “And is that what upset you last time?”

She bent down to reward him with a close-mouthed kiss, swollen lips to swollen lips, staying close as she pressed her forehead against his.

“You can’t fuck like that without knowing the proper etiquette.”

“So teach me.”

Pansy delighted in a lover willing to learn, especially one with a monster cock already swelling to life inside of her like he was now. She rolled her hips against Ron’s and captured his groan in another kiss, this one open and filthy in a perfect imitation of what was to follow.

“One more, and then I will.”

WC 1237

10/31 “Aftercare” prompt for @hpkinktober

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

I suppose I could have ended with something a little sweeter than this, but I had a hard time imagining my version of Ron having the wherewithal to take care of his partner after having his own spectacular finish 😛Let’s hope Pansy teaches him to do better.

For those of you who stayed with me from beginning to finish for my first foray into Kinktober, thank you! I don’t usually write shameless smut, much less delve into various kinks, so this was a fun exercise in both. Hopefully next time I can try to go for allllll the days, but we’ll see when we get there!

[bubble-gumhead]

For @hpkinktober

Day 16 (wings) and 31 (aftercare)

Draco/Harry, 4,663, Explicit

Read on AO3

Warnings: Descriptions of Blood/Pain/Panic

[sailtomarina]

Wild Lavender

Hermione x Fred | Kinktober Day 30: “Formalwear”cw: implied sex

When Hermione saw the formal invitation with “black tie” in carefully printed letters, she had to admit a part of her almost canceled on Fred right then and there.

The Merchant’s Inaugural Gala was meant to celebrate the reformation of Diagon Alley and related shopping districts after the war. It had been a long time getting back to the previous levels of activity, too long since people felt comfortable in the public spaces that once brought so many of them joy.

It was through that rebuilding effort that Hermione and Fred bonded, with her spending much of her free time on the weekends over at Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes replenishing stocks and shelves alongside her favorite twin.

They were so close to taking that final step towards something more, and when he’d asked her to be his +1, she hadn’t hesitated to accept. Now, standing in his kitchen above the store after going up to get a drink of water, she looked down at the card atop his table.

Black tie.

What was she even going to wear? She didn’t have any gowns suitable for this type of event. The best she had was the red cocktail dress she’d worn at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Could she have it lengthened?

Fred popped his head in the door and noticed her standing there, chewing her lip.

“Everything alright, Hermione?”

She startled at his voice and set the glass down with a loud clunk.

“I didn’t realize the gala would be so formal.”

He sauntered over to look down at the invitation, before looking back up at her with his head tilted. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“I just don’t know if I have anything to wear,” she admitted. She willed her hands to stop twisting the hem of her sweater like she often did when nervous.

“Sorry, I should have mentioned it earlier. I didn’t have anything either, which is why I popped over to Wild Lavender.” 

That surprised her. For some reason, she couldn’t imagine him walking into the posh new boutique.

His next words surprised her even more. “If you go for yourself, let them know you’re my date. They’ll take care of you.”

She gaped at him, appalled at the implication. “I’m not letting you buy my gown, Fred!” He obviously had no idea how expensive dresses could get.

“I promise that’s not what I mean,” he laughed, shaking his head. “They’ll just make sure you get something that matches well. The proprietor also may have mentioned wanting to meet you.”

She wrinkled her brow at the strange comment. Why would a stranger want to meet her? Then another idea came to mind and she flinched. What if they were one of those people who got off on meeting celebrities? She was a household name now, alongside the boys, and she’d already suffered her fair share of dodging the press.

As if he’d read her mind, Fred nudged her playfully. “It’s nothing bad, trust me. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Hmm,” she hummed skeptically. “We’ll see about that.”

Her mind whirred as she followed him back down to the shop. What could the owner of an up-and-coming clothes shop want with her?

It turned out that the proprietors were none other than Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

She should have guessed the connection with the name, but she hadn’t seen nor heard anything about Lavender following her hospitalization. Hermione had known it was a pretty big ordeal—it was Fenrir, after all–and that her former housemate survived, but nothing beyond that.

The two girls circled her like hawks, and Hermione tried to not stare at the scars marring the once-pretty girl’s face, focusing instead on Parvati’s excited smile.

“You’re going to be perfect!” she gushed. Lavender nodded in agreement, continuing to take her measurements.

“I’m sorry, what is going to be perfect?” Hermione asked, her nerves getting the better of her. She had to forcibly stop herself from gripping her sweater.

“We’re thinking midnight blue to match with Fred, and something that accentuates your delicate features,” Parvati answered.

“She won’t need any support with how tiny she is,” Lavender murmured.

Hermione flushed. She knew she was skinny—several months on the run had made certain of that. She had only recently gotten back to her former weight, but it was still difficult making herself eat when she could have easily skipped meals.

Lavender rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Hermione looked at her directly for the first time. She hadn’t expected the comfort, to be honest, given their history. Large hazel eyes looked back at her filled with a kindness and understanding to which Hermione couldn’t help but respond. She smiled tightly, tears threatening to fall, and it was only Lavender’s reassuring squeeze that gave her the will to stop them.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Hermione,” Lavender said softly, going on to explain, “I simply meant that we won’t need further adjustments.”

It turned out what they had in mind was more daring than Hermione would have ever, ever chosen for herself.

The drawing Parvati held up to her revealed a slender gown that hugged the model’s willowy frame, the back of which plunged deep past the center of her back with thin straps exposing her shoulders. She appreciated the design hiding the purple scar reaching across her torso—she wasn’t ashamed of it, but she still wasn’t comfortable with showing it off to others. She’d cross that hurdle with Fred if they ever got there.

The skirt flared outward at the knee in a mermaid silhouette. Hermione had only ever considered the shape as something appropriate for wedding gowns, not for anything she would ever wear.

“We’re adding a charm to occasionally shimmer gold as you move,” Parvati described. She waved her hands in her excitement. “You won’t need to wear a bra or anything for support since we’ll have spells weaved into the fabric, not that you even can wear one with this design. I’d advise against knickers, as well.”

“It’s beautiful, but don’t you think it’s a bit…much…for me?” she tentatively asked.

“Nonsense,” Lavender scoffed. Her voice regained the vigor of her youth in her certainty. “In fact, I’d wager you’ll catch every single person’s attention the moment you walk in. You are magnificent.”

Hermione only wanted one wizard’s attention, but she flushed at the compliment, all the same.

“Just make sure you credit Wild Lavender when asked about your stylist,” Parvati added. 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. Here was the true reason they’d wanted to meet her so badly. When they refused her payment, she barely argued. If they wanted her to parade their goods to the world, she might as well take them up on the offer.

She had no idea what to expect as she waited for Fred to arrive at her flat. She trusted he’d dress appropriately thanks to the girls, but she also wouldn’t have put it past the mischievous wizard to show up in something akin to his and George’s signature orange.

Hermione had to admit that she wouldn’t even mind.

As garish as the color was, the brightness of it simply suited him. Fred was pure joy. If he hadn’t survived his injuries after the final battle, Hermione knew the loss would have devastated his family and everyone else who knew him, and she would have been robbed of some of the happiest moments of her life.

When the knock came, a cheery trio of raps that was all Fred, she took a steadying breath before opening the door.

Fred Weasley cleaned up extremely well.

The prat knew it, too.

He stood there, one hand casually in his pocket, and the other holding up a single-stemmed rose in a deep shade of red, a single dark blue ribbon tied to the stem.

He wore a three-piece suit in a shade of brown Hermione immediately likened to her favorite dark roast coffee. The color complimented his hair, shorn short on the sides and the longer tresses up top styled in fashionable messiness. Accents of a blue matching the rose’s ribbon could be found in his slim tie and pocket square, both of which brought out his light blue eyes, which were currently pinned on her and twinkling in a way that was uniquely his.

“Hello, Hermione.”

It took a twist of his lips for Hermione to realize she was gaping at him. She shut her mouth with an audible click and hastily cast about for something appropriate to say.

She was an intelligent witch. She could be witty when required.

“Hi.”

Bloody hell.

His damnable lips curled upward into a grin. He then blatantly ran his eyes down her figure, before locking back onto her stupefied gaze. “You look gorgeous.”

Hermione was forced to clear her throat, which suddenly felt extremely dry, before answering. “Thank you. You look very nice, as well.”

She flushed as he chuckled at her stiff response. She sounded nothing like her normal self, and she hated that. Why couldn’t she just act like she normally did around him? It was usually so easy.

Curse Lavender and Parvati for making him look so damn delicious.

Hermione already knew he was a good-looking and fit wizard; a blind witch could have told her that. He and George had been Beaters, after all. They had the muscle mass to back up the skills the position required: broad shoulders, thick thighs that his dress slacks hugged sinfully, and an arse so tight she knew if he just turned around she’d want to bounce a Quaffle off of it.

Were Quaffles bouncy?

“Shall we?” He held out an elbow.

“Yes, oh!” Hermione plucked the rose from his fingers and rushed back to the kitchen to set it in a vase in the dead center of the island. “Now I’m ready.”

A choked sound had her twirling around in concern. His eyes were wide, and she realized that he’d seen her back for the first time.

Her very. Bare. Back.

He smiled tightly at her, closed his eyes for a few seconds, the tendons in his neck standing out, then reopened them before offering his arm once more for her to take.

As she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, Hermione couldn’t help but squeeze lightly in appreciation. He was just so solid and warm, and she couldn’t help but imagine him wrapping those same arms around her. What would they feel like pressing her against the wall, or bent over a desk?

A throat clearing had her looking up into crystal clear eyes that looked hungry.

“Yes?”

“That’s the second time you’ve said ‘yes’ this evening and I’m tempted to make you say it several times more before we even leave the flat.” He sounded hoarse, eyes dropping down to her lips and staring like he wanted nothing more than to bite them.

Circe help her, but she wanted him to bite her.

“Then why don’t you?” she said, far more breathily than she’d intended.

“Be careful what you ask for, Hermione,” he warned, turning to face her and placing his other hand on her hip.

Looking as he did, painfully handsome and dressed up for her, Hermione summoned every ounce of courage in her body to voice her thoughts aloud.

“Make me say ‘yes’, Fred.”

His eyes flashed, and then he was on her, pressing her up against the kitchen island, the hand on her hip sliding down to grip her thigh.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress, Fred Weasley.”

“Then tell me how to take it off, witch.”

She told him, and they ended up arriving at the gala several hours late, but just in time for the final toasts. 

“Oh, this? Wild Lavender. You will not regret it.”

WC 1966

10/30 “Formalwear” prompt for @hpkinktober

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

I don’t know if I’ve ever written Fremione, despite absolutely loving the two of them together? The twins are fantastic if any combination, to be honest, and I should probably write a triad fic for them sometime.

The title is a reference to a couple of YouTube fashion influencers I used to watch all the time. Kudos if you recognize it ;)

[charlotterhea]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Another @hpkinktober story, this time for the prompt 'Aftercare'.

Hermione tests a theory and Severus is overwhelmed by how intensely he reacts to it.

[theresthesnitch]

Taming of the Menace

written for the @hpkinktober prompt power imbalance.

Follow up to Quiet as a Meance. Sirius makes sure that Remus really misses him while he is gone.

[schmem14]

Day 30: Formalwear

Harry spots someone lovely at the Malfoy's annual New Year's Eve Gala, and he can't resist... Pairing: Harry Potter/Narcissa Black Malfoy CW: Dubious Consent, Pregnancy, Manipulation, Toxic Relationships Rating: M

written for @hpkinktober

[sailtomarina]

You’ll be mine

Draco x Hermione | Kinktober Day 29: Knotting cw: omegaverse, explicit sex

It started with a hint.

The barest wisp of a honeyed fragrance called to him like a hummingbird to nectar.

He wanted to bury his face in the cloying sweetness. Draco had never smelled anything so mouthwatering since his Alpha designation. He’d never dreamt he’d one day stumble across a pull so strong he’d lose all sense of self, stumbling along like a virgin to sacrifice.

Imagine his surprise when he found himself face to face with Hermione Granger.

It took him a beat longer to realize he was in her office.

In his haze, Draco had managed to ascend four levels and through several doorways to make his way here, now, and at a complete loss of what to do next. 

“Earth to Malfoy.”

He blinked, sound rushing back and everything coming into sharp focus. Her grounding gaze, dark with tiny flecks of gold, bore into him, her brow wrinkled in possible concern. He couldn’t help but trace her figure with his eyes, the clenched jaw, the way her white blouse gaped open and left her delicate neck exposed, her pert breasts tantalizing him in the plunging neckline.

She cleared her throat and he brought his eyes back up, unabashed at his perusal—he didn’t think there was anything wrong with appreciating her blatant display of femininity.

“What do you want?” she continued to ask. Rather than folding her arms underneath her breasts like he expected, she instead shifted back to lean against her desk, keeping her posture loose.

“I can smell you.”

She didn’t look offended in the least at his proclamation. She just tilted her head, still considering him. He couldn’t stop staring at the expanse of skin at the curve where her neck met her shoulder. It was where her mating gland should be, if not disguised by glamours. A trickle of sweat worked its way down into the collar of her shirt, and he was hit with another powerful wave of pure, unadulterated Granger.

Honey.

Spice.

A sip of his favorite fire whiskey, aged to smooth perfection.

“Good.”

Her reply was not what Draco expected.

“You do realize if I can smell you, then so can every other Alpha in this building?”

“You’re the only one I want.” With that shocking revelation, she proceeded to carefully roll up her sleeves, exposing the swollen glands of her wrists and enveloping him wholly in the essence of her Omega.

He stumbled forward in desperation, helpless to her allure and the idea that she wanted him. She didn’t even move when he caged her in, hands crashing down on the surface of the desk and pushing between her knees.

“Tell me to stop, Granger, please tell me to stop.” He buried his face in her curls, still holding back from outright touching her.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to grab on and take her atop her desk, their past history be damned. Truth be told, doing so would fulfill a long held fantasy he’d carried for years—before their designations, before her marriage and almost immediate divorce, before his failed engagement, before he walked in every morning to see her at the lifts looking just as vibrant, just as passionate as she ever had. More so.

“I don’t want you to stop. I want this.” There was no hesitation or doubt in her voice.

“But, why?”

Idiot, idiot! Why are you questioning this?

“Because I’m sick and tired of waiting for you to get off your proper arse and approach me.”

“You’ve been…waiting?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

“Why do you think we always see each other at the lifts every morning?”

“We just happen to start at the same time—”

“Don’t be daft.”

His mouth clicked shut at her reprimand.

“Didn’t you think it was odd how often our friends have been throwing us all together?”

He did think it was odd. First Pansy and Neville. Then Harry and Theo. Even Luna and Blaise. Their two circles were overlapping more and more, and he’d found himself awkwardly single alongside her at more pubs than he could remember. They always ended up sitting next to one another as the others paired off.

“I didn’t notice…”

She snorted as he trailed off trying to remember every instance they’d seen each other over the years.

“I came to the realization that if I just waited for you, we were never going to happen. We’d dance circles around each other until the end of time, until I found some boring politician or you gave in to an approved marriage.” She listed out the possibilities in as matter-of-fact of a voice as Mother discussed her daily schedule at breakfast. “So no, I won’t tell you to stop. I will tell you to get over yourself and shag and knot me right here so I’m forced to cancel all my meetings for the day, then fill me so full that I’ll need a plug to keep every drop of you inside of me until you shag me again. Tonight. In my flat.”

His mouth dropped open at her demands, his cock drawing painfully tight against the front of his trousers.

“Well?” she said tartly, raising a brow.

He remained silent, still warring with himself over the very idea of his fantasies becoming reality. She wanted him to take her here, now, even going so far as to plan for a repeat session later tonight. She wanted him to knot her, which meant he’d be stuck in her for hours unable to move.

She wanted him to knot her.

“Granger?” His voice came out lower than he’d intended, rough with the possibilities of what she had implied.

“Yes, Malfoy?” She remained falsely sweet, her smile curling at the tips like some kind of succubus. Her skin had flushed a flattering pink shade, perspiration covering her with a delightful shimmer.

“If I knot you, I’m going to want to bite you. You know that, right?”

“Ob-viously.” She sounded like his bloody godfather.

“You’ll be mine.” His voice shook in excitement. Granger in his bed, her curls strewn across the bed, her heavenly scent clinging to his sheets and his skin.

Get a grip. Don’t muck this up.

Draco slid one hand in the crook of her knee to pull her wide enough to ground himself into her, letting her feel how hard she’d made him, how the idea of taking her and keeping her, was everything he wanted.

“You do realize,” she grabbed onto his neck down to her, lips brushing against his own mating gland, “that you’ll also be mine.” 

She shifted and bit down onto his lower lip hard enough to break the skin and taint their kiss with a faint copper taste, her legs winding up and around his hips.

All reservations faded into a rush of senses as they fell into one another, playing out every one of her demands. They knocked over every item on her desk and sent neat piles of paper flying into disarray. She held him tight to her as he swelled and locked them together, murmuring praise and petting his hair.

Fuck if he didn’t love every bit of it.

Her scent surrounded him. Every thought pushing to the forefront of his mind was of her beneath him, on top of him, surrounding him. Her embrace was comforting in a way he had rarely experienced, romantic or otherwise. It felt right, like coming home after wandering for far too long.

He laid on her for a little over twenty minutes before she thumped him on the back and jolted him out of his stupor.

“Huh?”

“Your weight is lovely and all, but since we’re going to be stuck together for quite a while yet, I think it best we move somewhere a bit less air restrictive.”

“Oh, shite, sorry!” He was crushing her like it was his first time.

Nevermind the fact that this was his first time knotting, well, anyone.

He propped himself up on his elbows to look around the room, looking for an appropriate spot. Hermione helped push him back to standing, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and nodding her head towards her chair.

Lifting and carrying her to the other side while he was still inside of her was every bit as awkward as it seemed, despite the knot actually helping keep her in place.

“We’ll want to enlarge it for us to both fit,” she suggested, before reaching her hand out to summon her wand and doing just that.

“Wow, your chair is really comfortable,” he said with surprise. He hadn’t expected much from the mesh and plastic contraption when he’d first looked at it. It certainly wasn’t anything like the sturdy armchairs he had grown up using.

He shifted around to test the cushioning, pressing into the springy back support. The bottom was soft and didn’t stick to his naked skin like leather would have.

Granger leaned forward, her naked breasts pushing flat against his chest and her lips tickling his ear. “It has wheels, too.”

Tensing his legs, he pressed his feet against the ground and pushed.

The chair went flying backwards into her bookshelf, knocking photo frames and other knick knacks down onto their heads. One particularly well-aimed frame smacked him on the face as he looked up before landing between their bodies face up to reveal Potter and Weasley’s faces grinning up at him.

“Oh, gross.”

Hermione’s charming laughter bounced around the room, her warmth around him vibrating the knot. It was an odd sensation he thought he could get easily addicted to.

She picked up the picture frame to reset it back on the shelf. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now, Malfoy.”

“That would be rather gauche of me, don’t you think? Especially given that I’m still inside of you and plan to be so repeatedly.” He pumped his hips up in emphasis, and grinned at her gasp.

In retaliation, she leaned over and dragged her teeth over his neck gland. The resulting throb straight to his cock was instantaneous. He couldn’t help but yelp from the sensation, his hands squeezing her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

She giggled with a smile straight out of a villainess' playbook. “If you think I’m going to just warm your cock like some passive participant, you don’t know me at all.”

He huffed in acknowledgement, even as he fought his own chuckle.

“To be honest, nothing you’ve done today has been anywhere near the realm of my expectation.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

She was hugging him again, their torsos flush against one another and her fingers combing through his hair. He couldn’t help but run his hands down her sides and over her plush curves, kneading the muscles of her cheeks and causing her to sigh in pleasure.

She was ridiculously warm, but not so hot as to indicate a full-on heat. She must be close, though, given the strength of her pheromones and the tackiness of her skin.

“When do you go into full heat?” he asked, keeping up his massage and letting his eyes roam her office.

“Any day now, but I expect as soon as tonight now that you’re here.” Her hands had begun a massage of their own, kneading his scalp and neck. It was heavenly. “I want you to bite me near the end.”

Draco pulled back to look at her, ignoring the delightful way she shifted around him as he did so.

“It doesn’t have to be this soon, you know. I can see you through this heat and give us both more time to think about it.”

She looked affronted at the mere suggestion. “I meant what I said, Malfoy. I want us to claim each other.” She nipped once more at his gland and he twitched hard inside of her, making them both groan.

“You keep doing that and we won’t be leaving your office anytime soon,” he threatened.

She pouted even as his eyes twinkled at the prospects of taking her on every available surface of her work space. He wanted their scents on everything, and to laugh at her stuffy coworkers sitting unaware on top of where they’d shagged each other silly. But that could wait for another day, when she wasn’t on the cusp of her heat.

She squeezed her inner muscles and grinned at the glare he sent her. Minx.

And, soon enough, his minx.

2097 WC

10/29 “knotting” prompt from @hpkinktober

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

I’ve never actually written an omegaverse piece, despite enjoying reading fics of it very much. I underestimated how much I’d struggle trying to make a more empowered Omega and an Alpha both possessive but also willing to hand over the reins to a woman he’s long admired. I hope I did okay. I had to stop before I was truly satisfied because otherwise I’d never get this posted on time.

[hpkinktober]

HP Kinktober 2023

Day 31: Aftercare

AO3 Collection: HPKinktober2023

[hpkinktober]

HP Kinktober 2023

Day 30: Formalwear

AO3 Collection: HPKinktober2023

[schmem14]

Day 29: Knotting

Summary: Ron wakes to a comforting presence in bed. Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Minor Harry/Draco CW: Somnophilia, Dubious Consent, Werewolf *see additional spoiler tags in end notes

written for @hpkinktober

[annanother-thing]

In The Fading Forest

For @hpkinktober

Day 27 and 28: Room of Requirement and Knotting

Sirius/Remus, 1.8k, E

The night before the full moon, Remus needs a little extra workout to keep his wolf under control.

Read on AO3

[sailtomarina]

Just Like You Remember

Neville x Blaise | 10/28 “Remembrall” cw: references to anal sex, sex toys

“You’ll never guess what I found the other day.”

Neville slid his eyes over to the other boy leaning against their Potions station, green and silver tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone.

Blaise Zabini grinned, his bright teeth flashing against the rich chocolate of his skin. The veins in his neck were taut with the way he tilted his head, the expansion of the skin there unblemished.

Would a bruise even show if sucked there?

Neville swallowed hard and turned his attention back to their instructions. He didn’t look up as he replied, “Yeah? What’d you find?”

Something smooth and cool bumped against his hand where it rested against the tabletop.

“I changed it up a bit, but you should recognize it,” Zabini said quietly, still uncomfortably close. His cologne wafted over Neville, smelling of tobacco, leather, and whiskey. 

Typical Slytherin.

Neville turned his head and blinked at the string glass orbs lying innocently on the table like any other ingredient. Their transparent surface revealed grey clouds swirling inside.

They looked like…

He sucked in a breath, jerking his head up to narrow his eyes at Zabini and his all-too-innocent face.

“Is that a Remembrall?” 

“I think you’re smart enough to see there’s more than one,” Blaise said with a drawl, a smirk threatening to take over his mouth.

“What did you do to it?” Neville asked in fascination. 

They looked like exact replicas of the lost magical tool, albeit smaller. There were five in total, connected by an emerald string and ending in a loop at the end, almost like…

His sharp look of understanding earned him another full grin.

“What do you say, Longbottom?” Zabini said quietly, just low enough for Neville alone to hear him. “Want to see if they’re just like you remember?”

Neville felt heat rise in his face, his mouth now dry and in desperate need of a drink. He’d suspected Zabini leaned towards blokes, given the comments he’d made over the past several weeks after Slughorn had made them partners. The Slytherin matched him for height and build, his Quidditch muscles lending him a sturdiness that more than rivaled Neville’s own growth from his labor in the greenhouses.

He gathered his courage, more readily done now after the past couple of years, and leveled his eyes on the fathomless depths staring back at him. “What makes you think I’m interested?”

He fought to keep his face straight and his breathing even. He’d learned how to control his emotions; his life had depended on it.

Zabini wasn’t fooled.

Without breaking eye contact, he uttered the next words without any hesitation: “Well, I am. Fancy a ride?”

If there had been a mirror behind them, Neville would have seen the way his eyes darkened at the invitation, how his nostrils flared and the vein in his temple throbbed.

Of course he fancied a ride on Zabini’s broomstick. He’d take every damn Remembrall bauble up his arse in preparation and ask for more.

With a flick of his wrist, he vanished the string of orbs into his pocket and turned away to finish reading their instructions.

“Tonight.”

His partner’s grin was triumphant.

WC 530

10/28 "Remembrall" prompt for @hpkinktober

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

Have I ever read a ship of Neville and Blaise? I don't think I have...I actually find very few stories about Blaise period, which is a shame. Let's remedy that, shall we?

[schmem14]

Day 28: Rememberall

Summary: Bellatrix really likes to fuck Longbottoms up Pairing: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Neville Longbottom CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Non-con, Torture, Bondage, Fisting, Memory Charms, orgasm denial, blood, WHUMP Rating: E

written for @hpkinktober

[lumosatnight]

Day 28: The Housesitter

Theo meets the monster haunting Grimmauld Place.

@kinktober2023 day 28: Cockbulge, @hpkinktober day 23: Monsterfucking, @hpsnooze prompt: Night Demon

Sirius/Theo, E, 500 words

Dubious Consent, but Theo is into it, Bestiality, Anal Sex

—

Theo wished someone had mentioned that Grimmauld Place was haunted when he agreed to housesit.

“Mr Nott must not go in the attic,” the house-elf had croaked at him upon arrival, and Theo hadn’t seen him since.

Well, with instructions like that, what was he expected to do?

-♦️-

The attic was disappointingly bare. He didn’t even bother closing the door on the way out.

-♦️-

Theo chose a random room and fell asleep immediately.

Sometime later, he bolted awake, the back of his neck prickling, and cast a Lumos.

The light landed on the dark figure looming in the corner. It was large and black, and Theo went rigid with fear as the creature stalked closer. It was hunched, its outline vaguely human but with a distinctly snout-like nose and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

“Get out of my bed,” the creature growled, its black fur shining under Theo’s wand. “Unless you’d like to share.”

“No, I —”

The creature grabbed his throat, claws wrapping nearly all the way around. Theo gulped, going rigid for another reason entirely now. The creature sniffed him, its scratchy muzzle rubbing his cheek and making him shudder.

“You smell aroused.”

“I’m — I’m not,” Theo protested but was cut off when the creature ripped off the covers and flipped him onto his stomach.

He heard fabric tearing and the bed squeaking as the creature climbed up behind him.

“I suggest you use your wand,” it said.

His wand? What for?

He had forgotten about his wand entirely. He could stun the creature (probably) or he could call for help (assuming help would come). Instead, he conjured lube and slathered it on his fingers before circling his hole.

The creature snarled behind him, but it didn’t sound menacing, merely impatient.

He was adding a third finger when the creature grabbed him, yanking up his hips and positioning at his entrance. Theo felt the creature’s erection against his hole.

“Is this what you wanted?” it growled, and it pushed inside in one harsh thrust, giving Theo no choice but to accommodate the massive length.

Theo cried out as he was impaled, the painful stretch bordering on too much, but also feeling just right. The creature’s cock was huge. Theo pressed a hand to his belly, feeling the bulge there.

The creature held him in a tight grip as it fucked him, sharp claws digging into his hips, sharper teeth nipping at his neck and shoulders but never breaking skin. It bounced Theo on its cock, leaving him no room to escape. Each thrust inside made Theo’s head fuzzier and his moans louder.

Eventually, the creature roared, body shaking as it released into him. More and more of its seed spilled into Theo. 

He had never been so full. He could barely move. He was delirious with it.

Before the creature could pull out, Theo’s eyes were closing, his body slumping with exhaustion, his last thought being This was not going to be a boring week after all.

Also read it on AO3!

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