hey hey! I am so excited to share my masterlist for this year’s kinktober with yall!!! I’ve worked hard trying to come up with some juicy plots, and I hope you’ll have as much fun reading as I’ll have writing… 😈 + a lil surprise at the end…
UNDER THE PALE MOONLIGHT…
《 OCT 1ST 》
⟢ EXHIBITIONISM + HANDJOB with SUB!TOM
《 OCT 4TH 》
⟢ BDSM with HARD DOM!TOM
《 OCT 8TH 》
⟢ BRAT TAMING with PROFESSOR!RIDDLE
《 OCT 11TH 》
⟢ PREDATOR(S) AND PREY with KÖNIG & GHOST
《 OCT 15TH 》
⟢ PRAISE KINK + BREATHPLAY with SUB!TOM
《 OCT 18TH 》
⟢ FORCED BREEDING with EX BOYFRIEND!TOM
《 OCT 22ND 》
⟢ THREESOME with TOM & MATTHEO
《 OCT 25TH 》
⟢ FORCED SUBMISSION with ENEMY!TOM
《 OCT 29TH 》
⟢ SOMNOPHILIA with SUB!TOM
《 OCT 31ST 》
⟢ FUCK OR DIE with SERIAL KILLER!TOM
…THE DEAD BEGIN TO RISE
but don’t fret—the party is not yet over.
after all, November is one of the DARKEST
months of the year…
❯❯❯ WELCOME TO
《 NOV 5TH 》
⟢ DRUGGING with STEPDAD!TOM
《 NOV 8TH 》
⟢ CORRUPTION KINK with PRIEST!TOM
《 NOV 12TH 》
⟢ MIND BREAK with YANDERE!TOM
I’ll also have a taglist for this event! so, in case you want to receive notifications when I post, just comment under this post to be added! <33
please note that this list is subject to change.
happy spooky reading! 👻🎃🔪🩸
In love with your "bros the type to" series, for me it started with Draco and it was utterly adorable i love this silly guy so much uGhhh reread it again LMAO and the Fred one was also so goodd🫶
thank you ur so nice!! funfact: i was high out of my mind + on three or so hours while writing both headcanons
a/n: thanks for of the support!! ig im turning this into a series so if u have any character requests or fic ideas; send smth in my inbox xoxo
-Bro’s the type to be the reason why you’re late to class. He loses of time whenever you two were making out in the broom closet.
-Bro’s the type to give amazing back massages. Stressed out? His fingers work wonders on your aching skin.
-Bro’s the type to slide his hand up your skirt when he’s sitting beside you.
-Bro’s the type to sneak you samples from his jokes shop in exchange for your affection.
-Bro’s the type to show you off whenever he gets the chance. Sometimes he would subconsciously talk about you to his family and friends.
-Bro’s the type to be the golden retriever in the relationship. He doesn’t care if you’re the black cat; the total opposite from him, or if you match his freak—Fred would like you the same.
-Bro’s the type to love having you over. His family loves you and he knows it. He’ll find any reason to have you glued beside him.
-Bro’s the type to tease the fuck out of you when you wear his clothes. He think it’s the cutest thing ever seeing you in his clearly oversized clothing.
-Bro’s the type to tell you about his holidays in the Muggle world. If you’re lucky, he’ll even bring something back for you.
-Bro’s the type to be unexpectedly talented when it comes to playing the guitar.
-Bro’s the type to mask his feelings with jokes. During a serious situation, where he’s clearly stressed, he’ll try to distract himself and the people around him by making terrible jokes to lighten the mood
-Bro’s the type to fail a bunch of classes but excel in one specific class. The special class changes every year, but even if he does well, he’ll still pretend he’s doing bad so you can assist him.
feat. Draco Malfoy x roommate!reader x Harry Potter
summary: all your friends come over for dinner party at your shared flat. little do they know, you've been fucking your roommates in secret for weeks. when one of them makes a move on you, your boys decide to remind you who you belong to.
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, spit roasting, mfm, praise kink, switch!Harry, dom!draco, drinking, smoking, fluff, guyliner, Draco's a slut
an: I just passed 2,000 followers!! I love you all so much and I'm so grateful for the community I've found here. and what better way to celebrate than with our two favorite boys??
more drarry!roommate au | masterlist
Crossed legged on your vanity stool, you set down your blush and accessed your reflection. Too pink? Not enough?
“Looks gorgeous, baby.” A voice interrupted your pondering, low and sweetened with affection—Harry.
“It's not too much?” You asked, turning to look at him. He was leaned against the doorway, a pink wine cooler in his hand, already dressed for the party starting in over an hour. A white t-shirt, undone flannel, and light wash jeans, black hair messy and a little overgrown.
He had no business looking so effortlessly hot all the time.
“Definitely not too much.” He pushed off the door jam and crossed the room to you, setting the drink on the vanity for you. “Your makeup always looks perfect,” he said, tilting your chin up to get a closer look, his fingers cold from the bottle. “I like the, uh—the pink stuff.” He tapped the apple of your cheek gently with his pointer finger.
“Blusher,” you supplied. “And you only think that because you don't know anything about makeup,” you argued, despite the smile tugging at your lips.
“I know that you’ve looked beautiful every second of every day that I've known you, and that has to count for something—”
You swatted his broad chest, rolling your eyes and turning back to your makeup. “You're so full of it,” you laughed.
Grinning, he flopped onto your freshly made mattress, an arm folded behind his head, bulging bicep on full display. “You're about to be full of it—”
“Harry!” You scolded, tossing a brush at him.
He caught it without looking, spinning it around his fingers with a cheeky smirk. “What can I say? You bring it out in me.”
Another eye roll. You take a swig of your drink and grab your eyeliner, bracing your elbows on the table. You can feel Harry watching with abject horror when you paint your waterline. He gasped dramatically when you make a quick flick, resulting in a crooked, lightly smudged wing.
“Shit. Harry!” You huffed.
“I didn't do anything!” He laughed. “You're the one about to stab your eye out—”
“I am not! You're distracting me!—”
Something mischievous glinted in his green eyes. “Oh, you think that's distracting?” Harry hooked his foot under your stool, jerking you back towards the bed.
“Hey!”
“What are you children going on about?” Draco appeared in the doorway, half-dressed in trousers and a sleeveless undershirt.
“Harry made me mess up my eyeliner,” you scowled, turning back to the mirror. You attempted the wing again, only for it to skip and pull a little too long.
“He did?” Draco tsked, casting Harry an authoritative glare as he strode towards you, his equine legs taking him across the room in a few unhurried strides.
“I did not!” Harry argued. “I'm just sitting here, minding my own business—”
“Saints sake!” You cursed, pouting at yet another failed wing attempt.
“Do you need help, darling?” Draco asked, gently taking the eyeliner from your fingers.
“You can do eyeliner?” You asked, brows lifting.
He smirked, long fingers reaching out to grasp your jaw and tilt your head back. “Why so surprised?”
“Because you don't wear eyeliner?”
“My father taught me when I was kid,” he clarified. “It's something he does for my mom all time. Close your eyes, love.”
You were speechless, shocked that Lucius Malfoy not only willingly did his wife's makeup for her, but cared enough to teach Draco how to do it too. Something fluttery bloomed in your chest; Draco was doing it for you. Even Harry had fallen silent, watching with rapt attention.
This is how things were between the three of you—from silly friends one moment, to almost saccharine domestic sweetness another, then near-debilitating lust. Sexual tension so taught, you feared it would throttle you.
It was confusing, exhilarating, and deeply complicated. But it was worth it to have even a small piece of them.
Your closed your eyes, breath hitching when his grip tightened a fraction on your jaw, holding you steady.
“Breathe,” he instructed, his voice coming from much closer now, tinged with spearmint, and you loosed a shaky exhale. “Good girl. Now hold still for me.”
Your heart rate accelerated, thrumming eagerly under your skin. It was staggering how quickly he could send you reeling.
So light it almost tickled, Draco swiped a smooth arch above your upper lashes, flicking just a bit at the edges. With his thumb nail, he sharpened it to a point. An expert maneuver that had your belly somersaulting. He repeated the motions on the other eye, his hand delicate on your face so as not to disturb your other makeup.
“Open your eyes at take a look,” he murmured, and you obeyed, blinking up at him. Merlin, he's gorgeous. With his regal bone structure and those bewitching blue eyes. He smiled at you, catching your lingering stare, and leaned down to peck your lips. “Look at yourself, love, not me.”
You turned, eyes immediately snagging on yourself, and the sultry, flawless eyeliner he'd bestowed up on you.
“How the hell are you so good at that?” You asked, leaning in to get a closer look.
Harry got up and leaned over you, making an appreciate oooh. “Damn, Malfoy. If Auror-ing fails, you've got a back up career as a makeup artist,” he said, smiling over the blond.
Draco chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear while he admired his hand work. “Happy to help.”
“Your turn!” You whirled around and tackled Draco onto your bed, eyeliner lofted high.
He caught your wrist, grip tight enough to immobilize your arm, but not enough to hurt. He tsked, shaking his head at you. “Gonna have to be quicker than that, pet,” he chided, amusement glittering in his eyes.
“Oh, come on,” you whined, spreading your knees to lower yourself fully onto his lap. “Please?” You fluttered your lashes, tilting your hips just slightly to press against the growing ridge in his pants. He swallowed hard, eyes flitting down to where your bodies touched.
Harry snickered. “You're not playing fair, lovely,” he hummed, plucking the eyeliner from your fingers.
“But he would look so hot,” you argued, and Draco scoffed, releasing your wrist and resting his hands on your thighs.
Harry contemplated this, tapping his chin with the eyeliner. “That's a fair point.” And he handed you the eyeliner back.
“I don't get a say in this?” Draco huffed.
“Nope, you can wash it off after if you don't like it,” you chirped, uncapping it with your teeth and leaning down towards him.
“You know, it's unsanitary to share eye makeup—”
“Quiet, unless you want me to poke out your eyeball. Look up for me,” you ordered in your best Draco impression, and Harry laughed again.
Draco rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.
“Good boy,” you purred, and you felt his cock surge beneath you, Adam’s Apple bombing in his throat.
You drew a short line just under his lower lashes, barely more than a dot of product, and smudged it out with your pinky. Just enough to give him a little bit of a shadow.
When you pulled back, his eyes flicked back down to you, blinking away the little bit of water the collected. Your breath hitched in your lungs. His eyes looked almost silver, brighter than you'd ever seen them with that little bit of extra contrast.
“That's not fair,” Harry whined. “How can he get hotter?”
You set the eyeliner down, grinning triumphantly, until Draco bucked you off, flipping your bodies around before you'd even registered you were moving.
“And what do you think?” He asked, voice low and vaguely threatening.
Your brain short-circuited, completely mesmerized by his eyes. “I, uh—”
Draco smirked. “Not so bold now, are we?” He teased, leaning down to place a singular, open-mouthed kiss to your neck before pushing himself up, releasing you from his hold. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish getting ready.” He turned, pausing to pass a smoothing hand through Harry's hair before exiting your bedroom.
“It's not fair,” Harry grumbled, scratching his head where Draco just touched.
“You're gorgeous too,” you said, wrapping your arms around his middle. “You want some blusher?”
He barked a laugh, carding his fingers through your hair to tilt your head back to steal a kiss himself. “I’d hate to steal his thunder,” he joked, lowering his voice.
You giggled, pinching his cheek before pressing a kiss to it. “Natural blush, then?”
“Fiiine,” he smiled, pulling you up to standing. “Anything for you.”
You finished getting ready and joined Harry out in the living room, setting up the snacks and ambiance, getting the final details in order before your friends arrived.
You leaned over the counter, adjusting the candles at the center, when a heavy weight pressed against your back. Hands trailing up the fronts of your thighs, sliding under the hem as they pulled you closer.
“Sorry, lovely,” Harry purred, nosing into the back of your neck. “Couldn't resist.”
You could feel why against the fat of your ass, his cock throbbing eagerly under his jeans.
“They'll be here any minute,” you giggled, arching your back to press against him.
He groaned, calloused hands tightening around your fleshy thighs. “We'll cancel.”
“And eat all the snacks ourselves?” A breathy sigh stuttered from your throat when he rocked against you.
“Yeah, yeah—” he rasped, mouthing at the top of your spine. “Will need to refuel for round two—”
“You two are insatiable.” Draco’s accusatory voice cut through your haze like a lance.
Harry didn't relent, straightening. “Can you blame me?” Harry chuckled, his hands smoothing down the curve of your spine, the flare of your hips.
Draco hummed, and you turned your head to look at him. And oh, did he look good. Black fitted t-shirt tucked into his slightly baggy trousers, a patent leather belt cinching in that slutty little waist, silver rings on his fingers and chain around his neck. His eyes practically glowed from the eyeliner, giving him just that little bit of an edge, almost Bowie-like.
You extended a hand out to him, making a grabby motion, and he smirked.
“I have to admit, the eyeliner is growing on me,” he said, gently taking your hand and brushing a kiss along your knuckles. “But still, we're going to have to work on your manners.” He rotated your arm, bending your elbow to press your hand against your lower back. Harry caught your wrist, pining it down and pressing you harder against the cold granite.
“Seems well behaved to me,” Harry praised, his free hand trailing higher between your legs. “Isn't that right, baby?”
You nodded, thighs trembling as he inched higher, higher—
Knock knock!
Harry jumped back from you and Draco's head snapped up, scowling like someone personally offended him.
You straightened, smoothing your dress and taking a swig of your drink, willing the throbbing between your legs to subside.
“Sorry, love,” Harry said, pecking your cheek before rushing to open the door.
Draco shook his head and stalked over to the bar, uncapping the fire whisky and filling his glass.
“Harry, you will not believe what happened at work today.” Hermione charged in, jumping headfirst into a story about her idiotic supervisor.
Ron trailed in behind her, laden with takeout bags and a twelve pack that Harry helped him unload.
Hermione only paused her story to throw her arms around you, greeting you with one of those bearish hugs she was so good at it. Ron waved from across the island with a shy smile.
“Merlin sakes, Grainger. Do you ever stop talking?” Draco droned, leaning against the island beside you, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Unlike you, I actually have interesting things to say,” she bit back, pulling him down for a hug that he pretended to hate.
The boys ventured out to the fire escape, taking Draco's immaculate prerolls with them, leaving you and Hermione cozied up on the couch. But it wasn't long before Theo, Blaise, and Pansy arrived.
“Eccola lì!” Theo cried, handing you a gorgeous bouquet of roses and wrapping you up in a big hug. “I’ve missed you, carina,” he cooed, an incorrigible flirt as always.
“Hi, Theo,” you giggled, slipping away to hug the other two before tracking down a vase.
“What the fuck, Nott!” Draco shouted, throwing up the window, a plume of smoke pouring in. “Where are my flowers?”
“Sod off!” Theo shouted back. “Grainger, darling, if I’d known you'd be here, I’d have brought you the most gorgeous—”
“Watch it, Theodore,” Ron chuckled, his eyes already bloodshot, his smile melty. “Get your own bird, yeah?”
“Lo farò,” he purred, winking at you.
“Ignore him,” Pansy laughed, helping you fill the vase with water. “He got rejected this morning at the café, so he's feeling sensitive.”
“Oi!” He yelled over his shoulder as he climbed outside.
Blaise rolled his eyes and peeled away from Pansy’s hip, helping himself to the whiskey and sinking into the couch beside Hermione, launching into questions about her work. Pansy joined the boys on the porch, bringing out a tray of chips to uproarious applause.
Draco climbed back inside after her, swallowing the rest of his whiskey, and joined you in the kitchen, taking the roses from your hands.
“Thorns?” He asked, checking the stems. “I'll take care of it, go get a drink,” he murmured, fingers lingering on your lower back, hidden by the island, before he turned away.
“Thanks, D,” you said, squeezing his shoulder as you slipped past him and out of the kitchen. You grabbed another wine cooler and headed out to the fire escape, earning a trill of applause yourself.
Harry was perched on the steps, Ron on his left, while Pansy and Theo leaned against the railings. You turned towards Harry, but Theo caught you first, slinging an arm over your shoulder and tugging you into his side.
“Now the parties started,” Theo joked, offering the half-smoked blunt between his fingers.
You couldn't help but glance at Harry, who was watching you from the corner of his eye while chatting about classes that week with Ron.
If you were honest, you wanted a hit from Harry’s joint, preferably directly from his mouth, but you couldn't exactly refuse Theo and go to Harry without letting the cat out of the bag.
But would that be so terrible? You trusted your friends to not leak the news, and hiding what the three of you were was proving harder than you'd anticipated.
Sure, you weren’t a couple, but it was easy to forget what the arrangement actually was when it was just the three of you in the flat, free to express your affection however and whenever you wanted.
Going back to being friends, even if it was just temporary, was leaving your heart a little bruised.
“I'm okay, Theo. Thanks, though,” you said, offering as sweet a smile as you could muster, and Harry visibly relaxed in your periphery.
“Tranquilla,” Theo said, taking a hit himself and relinquishing his hold on you.
As casually as you could, you sidestepped to sit on the steps beneath Harry, his shins at your back, and started chatting with Pansy about her and Blaise’s upcoming nuptials.
A few minutes later, something heavy and warm dropped on your shoulders, wafting a familiar, amber-scented cologne over you. Harry's flannel.
You curled your fingers around the collar, wrapping it tighter around you, and felt like you could breathe for the first time since everyone arrived.
He offered you his blunt, holding it carefully between his fingers so you could hold onto the flannel. The acrid burn filled your lungs, cast a haze over your mind, and you exhaled, letting the smoke carry your racing thoughts to the stars.
"Better stop looking so damn kissable before I do something stupid," he muttered against your ear, a shiver rolling down your spine. Before you could respond, he leaned back against the stairs, slipping back into conversation with Ron like nothing happened.
A few hours passed, traveling back and forth from the fire escape to the living room, but as the evening wore on, it was too cold to sit outside. So everyone crammed into the living room, sprawled out on the couches and cushions tossed onto the floor.
You were stretched out on the floor between Draco and Theo, the latter seeming more interested in you than usual. He'd barely left your side all night, jumping up every time your drink was empty, or you eyeballed a snack for a few extra seconds.
They were reminiscing on their Hogwarts days, swapping stories and laughing. You were a year below them, and had only really known them from afar, so you just listened, and laughed when everyone else did.
“What'd you think of us back then, carina?” Theo asked, bumping his knee against yours.
Draco and Harry perked up a bit.
“I mean…” you trailed off, glancing around the group as heat crawled up your neck. “He’s Harry Potter. We were all a little starstruck.”
Harry flushed, and everyone but Draco laughed.
“And Hermione, I would write down your class schedule to try and copy it so I could be as smart as you—clearly, a failure,” you added, and Hermione blew you a kiss.
“Theo and Blaise, you guys stole my Charms coursework once, so…”
Theo balked, and Blaise snickered.
“I would never do such a thing,” Theo argued, clutching his gold chain like it was a string of pearls.
Immediately, everyone launched into different stories where Theo had done that and worse.
“Alright, alright! Stronzo’s,” he muttered, pouting.
“And Draco,” you said, finally turning towards the sulking blond. Were you really about to admit this out loud? “I had an absolutely debilitating crush on you.”
“Whaaaat?!” Everyone cried, and Draco's scowl lifted to a smirk, something warm blooming in his glacial eyes.
Harry rolled his eyes, slumping back against the couch, but Draco drew your attention back with an arm snaking around your waist.
“Did you?” He cooed, tugging you into his side. “How adorable.”
You shoved him away, giggling, though he didn't let you go far, socked feet still touching. “I was young, and had questionable taste!”
Everyone howled with laughter, and Draco chuckled, though his eyes promised you'd regret those words. And you couldn't wait.
They dove back into conversation, and you slipped away to check your makeup and calm your racing heart.
A soft knock startled you from your vanity, and you turned, expecting Harry or Draco, but were surprised to find Theo leaning against the door jam.
“Didn't mean to scare you, amore,” he said, eyes sweeping over you, openly appreciative.
“Oh, uh—it’s okay. What's up, Theo?” You asked, setting down your powder brush.
“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me this week?” He asked, and your stomach dropped. “I think we'd have a lot of fun,” he added, sensing your hesitation.
“Oh, Theo. I—I’m not really in a ‘dating’ place right now,” you said, fidgeting a bit. “But, I appreciate the offer.”
Theo smiled, though it wasn't exactly friendly. “Still have a crush on Malfoy, hm?”
You narrowed your eyes. “I don't need a reason, Theo,” you bit, crossing your arms over your chest.
He held up his hands. “I know, I know. That's not what I was trying to imply. Mi dispiace. I had a feeling you'd say no, but figured I'd try my luck anyways. Your reasons are your own.”
You nodded stiffly, still a bit perturbed by the interaction.
“But, if you do still have a crush on Malfoy—”
“What’s that, Nott?” Draco suddenly appeared over Theo's shoulder, expression dark as a burgeoning storm.
Theo glanced at him, then back to you, still wearing the mischievous smirk. Apparently oblivious to the trap he'd stepped in. “Buona fortuna, carina,” he said, lifted like a farewell, and stepped back into the hall, leaving Malfoy fuming by your door.
“Draco—”
“He asked you out?” Draco asked, leveling you with those piercing eyes.
“And I turned him down,” you retorted, irritation flaring at the possessive way he was acting.
He was the one that suggested this arrangement, wasn't he? He made his bed. You weren't his. Not officially.
Something in your tone broke through the fog of war, and his expression softened.
“Can't say I blame the poor sod,” he said after a moment, eyes drifting down your body. “But I can say that I don't feel all that bad for him.”
You shook your head, walking towards the door to head back to the party. “Try not to look so smug,” you teased, pecking his cheek as you passed by him.
But his arm shot out, hooking you around the middle and flipping you around to press your back against the doorway, his body looming over yours.
“How could I not be?” He murmured, dragging his nose along your temple, the heat of him wrapping around you like a blanket. You could look nowhere but him, completely engulfed in his aura. “I've got such a pretty little thing wrapped around my finger.”
You rolled your eyes, but made no move to escape, the party with all your friends just down the hall completely forgotten. You only wished it was Harry you were pressed up against instead of the wall. Sandwiched between them was your favorite place to be.
His lips trailed down your neck, the feather light contact sparking along your skin like a live wire, and you gasped, arching into him.
“Is it too early to send everyone home?” You whined, raking your fingers through his hair. There was something deeply satisfying about being the one to ruin his always immaculate appearance.
“Just say the word and you'll never see any of them again,” he promised, earning a giggle from you.
“That seems excessive,” you teased.
“I disagree entirely—”
“I'm sorry to be a cock-block, but our guests grow suspicious.” Harry's voice filled the empty hall, and you felt Draco sigh against your neck before stepping back.
“I don't think you're sorry at all,” Draco chastised, throwing Harry a sardonic grin.
Harry shrugged, smirking back. “C’mon, lovely. They're trying to argue that the Demiguise is uglier than Grindylow.”
You gasped. “What?” and raced back out into the living room.
An hour later, you lead Pansy and Blaise to the door, waving goodbye to your final guests and hopping you didn't seem to eager to have them leave.
When you returned to the living room, you found Draco already picking up empty bottles and cans, while Harry was sprawled out on the floor amid the aftermath of the party, leaning back against the couch.
You thought about going to help Draco, but Harry looked far too cozy to pass up.
Harry grinned when you approached, crooked and honey-sweet, and it made your heart skip a beat. “Hi, pretty,” he said, opening his arms to you.
You sank to the ground and laid against his chest, one leg slung over his. “Have fun?” you asked, pecking his cheek. “Seemed to get a little jealous earlier.”
He shrugged. “M’fine,” he muttered, his tone shifting at the mention of Theo’s advances.
You didn’t buy it. Lightly, you dragged your fingertips down his chest, feeling his muscles twitch and bounce under your touch, and leaned in. “Are you lying to me?” you asked, breath fanning across his cheek.
“No, no—I, uh, I’m fine,” he stammered, breath hitching when you leaned in to kiss along the flush crawling up his neck. “Never been better,” he added, a little breathless.
You smiled, pulling at his earlobe with your teeth, before kitten licking the shell. He was trembling a little, his hand on your waist growing heavier, fingers curling around the bunched fabric of your dress.
“So, you don’t need me to show you how much I adore you?” You asked, pulling back a bit.
“No—yes, I—fuck, please don't stop—” He cupped your face, reeling you in for a messy, indulgent kiss. Lips slick with spit, tongue heavy with his lingering high and sweetened by booze, prying apart teeth to get to the softness of you. “Show me, please?” he mumbled against your mouth, breathing labored under the weight of his desire.
How could you refuse such a sweet request?
You shifted down, kissing along the valley of his sternum towards his navel, his skin deliciously warm through his thin shirt. Once settled between his thighs, you quickly undid his belt and fly, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. His cock was already throbbing, flushed with arousal and leaking pearls of precum. So sensitive, he hissed through his teeth when the cold air of the room kissed his fevered skin.
“You need me this badly, darling?” you cooed, blowing air on the rosy head to tease him further.
His chin bobbed, his entire body rigid with tension. “Please, baby, please touch me,” he whimpered.
Taking pity on him, you wrapped your lips around the head, flicking over his slit with your tongue. His whole body shuddered, a broken little groan slipping through is teeth. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, the hot, heavy slide of his silken skin on your tongue making your thighs clench, honey leaking through your underwear.
“F-fuck,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. “Feels so good—you’re so good.” His thighs flexed with the effort of not bucking into your mouth, desperate to keep still so you didn’t stop.
You hummed in appreciation, taking him as deep as you could manage, tongue swiping along the root of him. Drool was collecting at his base, stringy as you lifted up and down, making a mess of his boxers and yourself.
“Look at you,” Draco cooed, startling you when you felt fingers glide through your hair. “Such a fucking mess.” He collected your hair into a ponytail, starting to lift and lower you on Harry’s length.
“Draco, f-fuck,” Harry moaned.
Draco chuckled, guiding Harry’s hand to hold your hair and releasing you. “You can do it, Harry. She won’t break,” he teased, and you felt Harry’s hand tighten, adding a little more force to your own movements, pushing you a little further each time.
Tears collected at the corners of your eyes, Harry’s thick length making your jaw ache, and the need between your legs bordering on painful.
Then, you felt Draco’s hands slide under your hipbones, lifting you up to your knees in a quick motion and making you slide further down on Harry’s cock, gagging on him.
“Sh, sh, there’s a good girl,” Draco soothed, pushing your dress up over your hips, and rolling down your sodden panties. His fingers ghosted over your cunt, applying the lightest pressure, and you keened, the sound muffled by Harry’s length. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll only stop when you do,” he challenged, circling the pool of moisture at your entrance before dipping a finger inside your heat.
You moaned again, redoubling your efforts on Harry to encourage Draco's fingers, rocking back against him as you bobbed up and down Harry's length. Harry was a mess beneath, gasping and whimpering, a sheen of sweat making his shirt stick to his skin, his dark hair cling to his forehead. Even his poor glasses were fogging up.
“Merlin sakes, baby—” Harry grunted when you swallowed around him, taking him deeper than before.
Draco rewarded you with a curl of his fingers, prodding that ruinous spot that had your whole body tingling, eyes rolling back in your head. “You take that cock so well, love. Such a perfect little cocksucker, aren't you?”
You nodded, pleasure unspooling in your belly and making your limbs grow heavy, wanting to dissolve onto the floor and let them ravaged you. Take what's theirs.
“Look so pretty,” Harry cooed, his free hand cupping your jaw, stroking away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.
“Tell us how pretty you feel,” Draco instructed, his fingers withdrawing from your heat.
You pulled off of Harry, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I feel so pretty. Thank you for making me feel so pretty,” you babble, reaching back to grab Draco and squeezing Harry's thigh.
Both men grinned, tutting proudly, and your reward prodded against your entrance, much thicker than a finger.
Harry guided you back down to his cock. “Remember, lovely. Don't stop unless you want him to.”
You nodded, lapping at the mess you'd made around his base. Draco swirled his cockhead through your folds, lubricating himself, mimicking the movement of your tongue.
Carefully, you took Harry into your mouth, slowly sinking down his length while Draco pushed into you, just as careful. Stretched perfectly, deliriously full. Pleasure dripped from between your legs, flooding your mind and body. You reached for them again, needing an anchor in the storm, and they both reached back for you, Harry hands over your on his chest, and Draco's fingers twined with yours on your shoulder.
“All ours, hm?” Draco gruffed, rocking his hips into you, his iron length dragging against your gummy walls. “Our mouth, our cunt—” he snapped his hips forward, sending you down on Harry's cock and making you gag. “If only Theo could see you now…”
You shook your head as best you could. “Omphly yours,” you mumbled, tongue squished against your teeth by Harry's girth. Harry keened at the feeling, hips stuttering up, the tendons in his neck pulled taught as you felt him start to swell—so fucking close.
“That's right,” Draco purred, stopping his punishing strokes to grind into you, the squelch of your pussy unforgiving, undeniable. “You're both mine.”
You and Harry nodded automatically, letting Draco's pace pull you up and down Harry's length, all of you rocking together like a castaways on a lifeboat, clinging to one another so you weren't pitched into the churning sea.
“F-fuck, ah—I’m so close,” Harry whimpered, hands tightening as he started to tremble, body burning like a furnace beneath you.
“Not yet, Potter,” Draco grunted, his hand sliding from your hip around to your belly, long fingers finding your clit and the sticky mess you'd made between your legs. “Not until she comes.”
It was like Draco struck a match, your whole body lighting up as he worked you with expert precision, knowing your body even better than you did. You tried your best to keep pace sucking Harry, but your mind was starting to fog, limbs going stupid and gelatinous as every nerve pulled taught in your stomach.
Harry whined, head falling back against the couch cushions. “Oh saints—I can't—”
“She’s almost there—you can. C’mon, angel. Come for us—He's been so good, he deserves to come, doesn't he?” Draco was starting to ramble, a tell-tale sign that he was getting close too, his cock thickening, pressing harder against your cervix with every thrust.
“Please, please, please,” Harry pleaded, and you were done for.
Your orgasm crested, the tension severing in your gut and sending you reeling, quivering so hard Draco had to wrap his arm under your hips to keep you upright.
The boys were dragged into oblivion with you, their cries combining into a single roar as they pumped you full of release, painting your insides white as they fucked you and one another through it.
“That's it—so fucking good for us. Did so well,” Draco said, stroking your spine and Harry’s outstretched leg, praising you both. He eased you off of Harry, laying you gently on the carpet and using his wand to clean you both up.
You were completely spent, wrung out like a washcloth. Boneless, brainless, and practically giddy with endorphins.
“You're amazing.” Harry offered you a sip of water, holding your hand while to you recovered. “Smiley girl,” he teased, leaning down to peck the grin tugging at your lips.
“Feel good, darling?” Draco asked, massaging your legs, his own smile breaking through. Viscerally pleased that he had you so thoroughly wrecked.
Harry was trying to be coy, but you could see the possessive gleam in his eye, the greedy way he took stock of every red mark and bead of sweat on your body. “Looking a little starstruck, love," Harry teased.
"Still think you were naive and had questionable taste?” Draco asked.
You shook your head, too breathless to speak, your throat raw and tender in the best way.
-Bro is the type to deny that he’s dating you. Not that he’s ashamed of dating YOU but he’s ashamed of HIMSELF that he could be so vulnerable.
-Bro’s the type to be terrible at communicating so he buys you gifts as an apology.
-Bro’s the type to meet up with you in discreet places where you two can have the moment to each other without worrying about other people eavesdropping.
-Bro’s the type to ask his mother very obscure questions, hinting that he wants dating advice to please you-without giving it away that he is dating anyone.
-Bro’s the type to be overly jealous if he sees you enjoy yourself talking to any guy but him.
-Bro’s the type to buy you a ring every now and then to remind you that even if he doesn’t show it well, he still loves and cares about you.
-Bro’s the type to make fun of you for being bad a subject but gets sad when you don’t want his help studying.
-Bro’s the type to not reveal his relationship with you until AFTER THE WARR
“Draco, you seeing anyone special these days?”
“I’m engaged.”
“WHAT?”
-Bro’s the type to be plotting for months on how to ask you out, but he denies liking you if you ask him.
-Bro’s the type to be insanely devoted and loyal towards you.
-Bro’s the type to get into arguments with everyone and expects you to take his side.
-Bro’s the type to be dating you because he finds some sense comfort in you since he never had any growing up.
-Bro’s the type to be emotionally unavailable but makes it up by spending time with you outside of school and buying you things
-Bro’s the type to make to super obvious that he has a crush on you but if you confront him about it, he’ll deny everything.
-Bro’s the type to ask Hermione what to do while dating you. She doesn’t even have to know you personally and he’ll still ask her because she knows “everything” on what girls like.
-Bro’s the type to be really awkward while being in public with you but when you two are alone, he melts into your touch like he’s never been held before.
-Bro’s the type to be terrible at any form of verbal comfort but he’s here if you need a shoulder to cry on or want to rant about your day.
-Bro’s the type to get defensive when someone speaks poorly about you. They don’t even have to be speaking to Harry directly, a speckle of your name can come out from someone’s mouth and now he’s fighting the urge to not fight them.
-Bro’s the type to deny any physical touch but when you stop, he’ll start looking like a kicked puppy, begging for attention
-Bro’s the type to look for any excuse to spend holiday at your house because he would quite literally would rather die than spend his holiday with the Dursley’s.
-Bro’s the type to listen to you talk shit about a random and agree with what you say regardless if he knows them or not.
“I actually hate __ so much. She’s so annoying”
“I completely agree with that.”
-Bro’s the type to scheme and ask you for a second opinion on his plan.
“Love, you don’t think I’m crazy for investigating to see if Malfoy’s a Death Eater, right?”
“Harry James Potter…Go. To. Bed.”
-Bro’s the type to do well in every class but ask you for help so he can find an excuse to spend more time with you.
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