#lumosdrabbles

[lumosatnight]

for kinktober… Harry/Draco/Zacharias 🤩🤩🤩

@oknowkiss, thank you for this delicious prompt! It really got me thinking. There are quite a few characters who are tall, pale, and blond. What if Harry likes to fuck them? What if Draco likes to watch (or help)?

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 26: cuckolding (I’m going out of order a bit) 💟 sofa sex, caught in the act, infidelity (consensual?)

Tall, Pale, and Blond

Harry Potter had a type.

Unfortunately, Zacharias hadn’t known this until after he was bent over Harry’s living room sofa, arse up, pants off.

Harry grabbed him by the hair and pulled. “Fuck, is this natural? Have you always been this blond?”

“W-What?” Zacharias spluttered.

“You’re so fucking pale.” A hand landed on his arse. “I bet you mark really easily.” Another slap, making him yelp.

“Harry, slow down —”

“Call me Potter.”

Harry kicked Zacharias’s feet apart, pushed on his lower back, forced him down. He lined up his cock.

“Potter,” he gasped. Harry slid in and immediately hit his prostate, barraging it, more like. It was fast, and it was hard. His hips dug into the sofa uncomfortably, but it wasn’t every day the Chosen One invited you back to his.

“Say it again.”

“Potter,” he moaned.

“No, angrier. And drop the r at the end.”

Weird kink, but alright. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Zacharias had ever been asked to do.

“Pottah,” he spat.

“Again.”

“Pottah… Pottah… Pottah!”

“Pottah, what the fuck are you doing?” said a new voice, and Zacharias’s head whipped up. Harry’s hips stilled.

Draco Malfoy came closer, rounding the sofa in slow, measured steps. Since when had he been there?

“You really are a slut.” Draco’s pale fingers curled around Harry’s throat. Harry’s eyes slipped closed. “I leave for three days, and I come back to this. Can’t keep your dick to yourself? Needed to find a nice, tight hole, hmm?”

“Malfoy,” Harry groaned, “I’m sorry. Couldn’t help it. Missed you.”

“Clearly not enough,” said Draco.

What the fuck kind of couples drama had Zacharias stumbled into? This was awkward as hell. They hadn’t even acknowledged him since Draco had walked in.

Harry started pulling out (thank god), but Draco stopped him. Zacharias felt Draco’s bony fingers grip his hips. He felt Draco moving him, pushing his arse back, impaling him on Harry’s cock.

“You wanted to fuck him,” said Draco, “so fuck him.”

He rocked onto Harry, helpless as Draco’s strong grip guided him. Harry met each thrust, tentatively at first, then gaining momentum until he was steadily pumping.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” said Draco. “But not as good as me. You’ll never have better than me.”

Harry’s hips pumped wildly while Zacharias held onto the cushions for dear life.

“Come for me, darling,” Draco ordered, and Harry came, his whole body shuddering. Draco turned his head and devoured his lips. Harry moaned lewdly into the kiss. It was like Zacharias wasn’t there at all.

When they pulled away, Harry was panting, Draco’s saliva shining on his lips. Draco smirked, wiping it away with his thumb.

“Scram,” said Draco. He still wasn’t looking at Zacharias, but somehow he knew that message was for him. And well, he didn’t need to be told twice. 

He hadn’t even made it to the door before the noises started up behind him. Harry moaning, begging, “Malfoy, gods, please, I’ll do anything.”

Zacharias grabbed his clothes and fled.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 2 | Masterlist | Day 4 →

[lumosatnight]

Drarry, if it inspires. Please and thank you!!

Dear @phoebe-delia, you are the sweetest! Here is some Drarry for you! Always a joy to see you around 🥰 Thanks for prompting my OTP 💖

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 1: masturbation 💟 body swap, hand jobs, bickering as foreplay

Not my body, not my fault

“This is your fault, Potter.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

Well, it might’ve been Harry’s fault. The puddle on the floor from spilling his tea. Draco’s momentary distraction when carrying the cursed vase. Harry catching him with his bare hands when he fell. Of course, he had to touch the vase too.

“So, what now?”

“Take the day off, I suppose. Come back to mine?”

“You better not try any funny business.”

“I’ll keep my hands to myself, promise.”

He didn’t mean that quite so literally, but it was kind of funny how accurate a statement it was, thinking back.

“Merlin, don’t look at it.”

“Why not?” Harry-as-Draco let the elastic on his underwear snap against his stomach, Draco’s dick flattening against the seam. It was a nice dick, nothing flashy. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He stuck a hand down his pants.

“What are you doing? Are you touching me?”

“I’m not touching you.” Harry gestured at the wide gap between them. Draco-as-Harry was huddled on the other end of the sofa, curled up into a ball, head of black hair resting on his kneecaps. Wow, Harry’s hair was getting long. He needed a haircut soon.

“Stop that!” Draco hissed, flailing his arms. “It’s my dick. You’re not allowed to touch it.”

“Well, it’s not yours right now, is it?” He started moving his hand, and Draco made a strangled sound.

“Oh!” Harry gasped. “You’re so sensitive. I had no idea.”

“It’s not like I go around announcing it.”

“Well, you should.” Harry made a circle with his fingers, squeezing around the glans. He wondered what it would be like to suck it. Maybe after they switched bodies back, he’d try asking.

“Fuck you, Potter. Fine. Fine. If that’s how you want to do things.”

Still grumbling, Draco stuck a hand down his own pants. He fumbled with Harry’s cock until it was sticking out the top, out in the open, just like that.

“You want to be a slag? I’ll let you be a slag.” Draco threw his head back, and Harry watched himself moan, mouth wide open, body arching. Did he really look like that? Draco was definitely exaggerating, but it was also kind of hot.

Harry moved his hand, Draco moved his hand faster. The room was silent except for the fwip, fwip, fwip of their competing wanks. Harry sank into the sofa, sprawling out until his foot poked Draco’s thigh.

“Salazar, get your filthy feet away from me,” Draco gasped, his wrist never stopping. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“They’re your feet.” Harry poked him again.

“Fuck,” said Draco. “Fuck!” His hand was a blur on Harry’s cock. He was holding it at a slight angle, not Harry’s usual way, but it seemed to be working well enough. With a shuddering groan, he spilled into his hand. Harry focused on his own hand again and soon followed him over.

He waited until Draco caught his breath before, “So, are you sensitive everywhere?”

“Fuck off, Potter.”

Also read it on AO3!

Masterlist | Day 2 →

[lumosatnight]

Sirry? 👀 🌝

For @the-invisibility-bloke, I hope you don’t mind that I added Draco into your Sirry suggestion. There are just so many delicious possibilities with them all stuck at Grimmauld together. You know, those walls are awfully thin, those creaky doors never seem to stay closed…

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 4: voyeurism & sounding, @hp-kinktober-2025 day 4: trick stair 💟 cousin incest, Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black lives

A Reward

Harry had a bad habit of never closing doors. Draco only noticed after moving into Grimmauld Place when Cousin Sirius had reluctantly offered up a spare room.

It wasn’t usually an issue, but sometimes, Draco would hear things, see things. Harry’s moans in the dead of night, Sirius’s hand stroking over tense muscle, the tantalising flash of naked skin.

If it weren’t for the late-night moaning, he might never have known. The two ate breakfast on separate sides of the table, didn’t so much as brush hands when passing the salt.

But Draco knew. He heard them, saw them through the crack in Harry’s door. It was always at the same time, just after midnight, when Draco was climbing the stairs to his room.

Muffled groans and hushed whispers, the tell-tale sound of skin on skin.

Harry’s door was cracked ajar, a sliver of light shining onto the floor landing. Draco held his breath as he stepped closer, Harry’s room coming into view.

He saw Harry, bathed in yellow light, sitting on the edge of the tartan bedspread, cock out, legs spread wide.

“That’s it, love, stay still for me.” Sirius held Harry from behind, breathing praise into his ear. His hands were in Harry’s lap — one on Harry’s cock, gently holding, the other wrapped around a long metal rod, slowly moving. So slowly. A nearly glacial speed.

Sirius pushed the rod in, a millimetre, another millimetre, making the tip of Harry’s dick swell. Harry whimpered. He leaned back, panting into Sirius’s neck.

“Hush,” said Sirius. He kissed Harry’s head. “You’re doing so well.”

Sirius kept pushing. Harry kept whimpering — short, breathless sounds. Draco’s hand found his cock through his trousers. He staggered against the flood of arousal. He had never seen anyone do something like this before, had never even fathomed it. His foot slipped, slid, crashed onto the trick stair.

Both Harry and Sirius looked up, peered at him through the crack in the door. Draco couldn’t move, pinned by the weight of their combined stares, his guilty hand still clutching his cock through his trousers.

Sirius whispered something in Harry’s ear. Harry nodded.

“If you’re going to watch, you might as well come here and make yourself useful.” Sirius beckoned him, and Draco’s feet dragged him closer, pulled him in like the heady scent of amortentia flooding his lungs.

“Sit,” said Sirius. 

Draco sat, the bed dipping next to Harry, making him teeter, making him whimper.

“Hold him.”

Draco did. He curled a hand around Harry’s flaccid cock. It twitched feebly in his palm, making Harry hiss.

“Only a little longer,” Sirius coaxed. He stroked Harry’s hair. “Stay still while I take it out.”

It felt even slower than going in, but eventually, the rod was out — the whole thing, as long and thin as it was.

“Wank him,” said Sirius. “He deserves a reward.”

Draco’s hand moved, squeezing Harry’s cock. Sirius leaned over, lips grazing Draco’s ear.

“Finish him off, and you’ll get a reward too.”

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 3 | Masterlist | Day 5 →

[lumosatnight]

For kinktober… Harry/Luna OR Harry/Luna/Pansy whichever strikes your fancy more

@oknowkiss I decided to add Ginny to your Lunarry prompt! This, um, turned out stranger than I expected, but that always seems to happen when Luna is involved. You’re lucky I didn’t have enough words to include sounding lol.

💟 @kinktober-2025 alt: free use, @hpsnooze 2025: legs peaking out of a sheet 💟 food sex, cockwarming, somnophilia

Love Is an Open Door

They have this arrangement, of sorts — Ginny, Luna, and him. They all share a flat. Ginny and Luna share a room. Harry’s pretty sure the two of them are dating, though he’s not entirely sure. They’re definitely in love, though.

He never knows when it will happen, but he leaves his door open just in case. An open door means “YES, PLEASE,” while a closed door means “DO NOT DISTURB.” But he almost always likes to be disturbed, and Luna and Ginny do enjoy causing a disturbance.

He learns to expect the unexpected.

-

Ginny finds him while he’s studying for an Auror exam. She hikes a leg up on the desk, swinging it out so far he can easily see her bare cunt peaking out at him. He protests feebly, but doesn’t resist when she grabs his head and pushes it closer to her glistening centre.

-

Luna sneaks up behind him in the kitchen. He’s spreading beans on toast when he feels her small hands slide down his pants and wrap around his cock. She thrusts a mug underneath, telling him to come in it, please. The request is so sudden, so strange, so endearingly Luna that it pushes him over the edge. He gushes into the mug as she rubs her cheek against his back. She mixes in her tea afterwards, humming with contentment.

-

Ginny sits on his lap during their weekly movie night. Luna makes nonsensical commentary and informs them about the undercover zombie conspiracy theory. Whenever Ginny laughs, her whole body shakes. Harry’s cock throbs deep inside her, never enough friction but just enough heat. It’s a maddening tease that lasts for hours. She stays there all night and never lets him come.

-

Luna climbs into the shower after him, still fully clothed. She soaps him up and slathers him down. She pays special attention to his nipples, licking and biting, pinching until they’re red and sore. Harry moans, loud and long, and comes all over the tile. She captures the sound in a bottle and ties it to a string. She’ll make it into a necklace later, a gift for Ginny on her birthday. She kisses his cheek and skips out of the shower, trailing soapy water in her wake.

-

Harry gasps awake on the brink of orgasm. He’s naked, somehow, and tied to the bed by his wrists, legs tangled helplessly in the sheets. Luna sits beside him, pushing something long and hard into his arse, slowly thrusting. Ginny sits atop him, her wet cunt sucking him in, slowly riding. Ginny drops down, Luna thrusts deeper, and he's coming, shouting in surprise, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.

Ginny keeps riding, Luna keeps thrusting, until they’re all exhausted, collapsing onto the bed in one sweaty heap. Luna pulls the thing out of his aching hole and holds it out to them.

It’s a cucumber. She just fucked him with a friggin’ cucumber.

"Snack?" she asks.

"Why not?" says Ginny and leans over to take a bite.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 21 | Masterlist | Day 23 →

[lumosatnight]

There are so many ships I want to request, but I will give just one and since you were begging for some Percy ships. Let's go with Percy/Oliver Wood.

@uncommonfilth, I do so love Perciver. Especially when they’re obsessed with each other. Oliver who trusts Percy blindly. Percy who gets hyperfixated on the object of his desires. Mmmm yummy.

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 7: bloodplay, @hp-kinktober-2025 day 7: non-human 💟 vampires, biting, anal fingering

Crimson Hunger

It’s an addiction, this thing between them — this gooey, dripping thing. Sweet like taffy, dipped and stretched and pulled. Salty, too. Oliver bends and twists, his body straining and yielding, melting under the force of it, but never breaking.

Percy’s hand finds Oliver’s face. It’s cold, always cold, like the glistening frost in winter — icy, unwavering, beautiful. “Oliver,” he breathes. His voice is raspy, parched, like a man starving, an animal laid bare in the desert, gasping for its last breath.

Oliver shudders, his head falling back against the wall. His chest aches, his limbs tremble. Percy’s fingers work him open, carve a path inside him, make a space so deep Oliver hopes they’ll never leave.

“Oliver,” Percy says again, reverence and adoration slipping over the syllables like water, overflowing. Percy noses at his cheek, the cold, gentle touch sending jolts of icy lust through him.

His hands clench uselessly at the back of Percy’s shirt. Always so buttoned up, collar neatly pressed, pleats wrinkle-free. But not for long. It won’t be long until Oliver unravels him piece by piece, picking him apart one clothing item at a time until only the cold, unbeating heart of him remains.

“I want you, all of you,” says Percy, hushed and claiming, whispered into the tender place under Oliver’s jaw where veins meet skin.

“Yes,” Oliver gasps. His hips spasm, pushing mindlessly off the wall. He thrusts onto the fingers inside him — helplessly, uncontrollably.

Percy is there to stop him, cold hand sliding under the hem of his T-shirt, pressing against the flat planes of Oliver’s stomach until he is forced to be still.

Percy’s teeth brush his throat, and Oliver freezes. He can’t move; he doesn’t want to move. His pulse races — fear and desire and longing all intertwined. 

“Percy, please.”

It’s dark in the hallway, evening fading into the shadows of night, Percy’s realm, his kingdom under the stars. Still, Oliver can see when Percy lifts his face, the crimson flash of hunger in his gaze, the pearl-like sheen when he bares his fangs.

“Are you ready?”

It’s a question Oliver has been waiting for since Percy first found him, stalking him through an alley, perching in Oliver’s windowsill until he had no choice but to let him inside. It’s been many nights since that first time.

“Do it,” says Oliver.

The skin on his neck pulls taut, stretches, then yields. Percy’s fangs pierce through, and Oliver groans. He tightens around Percy’s fingers inside him, the pain and pleasure swirling and building. The blood flows between them, sweet in the release and the taking. A few drops escape down Oliver’s chest, pinpricks of red, glistening and wet.

Oliver’s head spins, his stomach clenches, his breath hitches. He’s on one of those carnival rides, the ones with the giant rotating swings. Climbing higher and higher, spinning faster and faster.

His eyes slip closed. He doesn’t want to see how high they’ve gotten, doesn’t want to see how far there is to fall.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 6 | Masterlist | Day 8 →

[lumosatnight]

@phoebe-delia, I love a good Tedrarry fic and, surprisingly, I’ve never written them before! Thank you so much for prompting them!

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 5: finger sucking 💟 cousin (pre-)incest, cottagecore, domesticity

Fingers on my Lips

I love visiting Harry and Draco’s house in the summer. They’ve got this cute little cottage in Godric’s Hollow. A garden full of flowers, a whole room full of Muggle curiosities. When I was really little, I would sit with them in the garage, watch Harry’s oil-slick fingers as he tinkered with the motorbike, watch Draco lick his lips in between reading off instructions from the manual.

Harry still likes to cook. He turns the radio up high and dances around the kitchen with the apron I gave him tied around his waist. Draco laughs, lips stretching wide in delight. Harry leaves a smudge of flour on his cheek, then chases me around the kitchen until he marks me too.

Harry’s fingers are warm. They have callouses from gripping a broom. They smell like lavender from the fancy soap Draco likes to use.

Draco catches Harry’s floury hand, brings it to his mouth, and leaves a kiss on the back. Seeing Harry’s hand near Draco’s mouth makes my chest ache in a weird way. Harry and Draco have always been touchy, like they don’t believe in personal space, but this summer is different — more. Sometimes, I have to leave the room because it makes me feel too much.

Maybe I’m just being sensitive. This is my last summer with them, before I leave for the Continent, now that I no longer have Hogwarts tying me down.

It happens again while we are watching telly. Draco’s head is in Harry’s lap, Harry’s fingers gently carding through his hair. It’s rhythmic, slow, hypnotising — impossible not to watch.

Harry’s fingers stroke down Draco’s face, over the sharp planes of his cheeks. Grandma Andy says I have the same cheekbones, the Black family genes. Draco turns his head, leaving fleeting kisses across Harry’s fingertips.

Harry’s fingers linger, soften, trace over the seam of Draco’s lips. Draco exhales, his lips parting, allowing one of Harry’s fingers to slip inside. I see the flash of Draco’s teeth, a glimpse of his shiny pink tongue.

I feel my mouth opening to match Draco’s. My lips tingle with just the thought of Harry’s fingers.

Draco sucks Harry’s finger in. I imagine what it feels like, what it tastes like. I wonder if Draco can feel the callouses on Harry’s knuckles, if he likes licking the nailbeds with his tongue. I wonder how different Harry’s cock would feel — hotter, thicker, longer.

Harry groans, a quiet sound, barely audible over the hum of the telly. He adds another finger.

It’s too much, too overwhelming. I stand shakily from the armchair, wish them both a goodnight. In my room, I rub myself off against the pillow, fingers stuffed into my mouth to stifle my moans.

-

“You’re a tease,” Draco says later, pulling off, lips swollen and red.

“I know,” Harry says. He’s seen the way Teddy looks at them, at Harry’s hands, at Draco’s mouth. “He’ll come around soon.” He weaves his fingers through Draco’s hair and pulls him closer again.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 4 | Masterlist | Day 6 →

[lumosatnight]

Kinktober ship request: Lily/marlene!

@caitiespersonalhell Yes, my girl Lily would look badass with a tattoo, and I know just the person to give her one!! Thanks for the prompt 😘

💟 @kinktober-2025 day 28: needly play, @hpsaffics spooky 2025 day 3: stab 💟 tattoo shop AU, thigh riding, age difference

Inappropriate

“First time, sweetheart?”

“How did you know?”

The tattoo artist’s (Call me Marlene, honey) gaze lingered on Lily’s tweed jacket and pearl earrings with a matching bracelet. She raised a pierced eyebrow, and Lily flushed.

“A doll like you don’t come here often. You sure you want to do this?”

Lily set her jaw and leaned back in the chair. “Yes, please.”

Marlene grinned. “So polite too.” 

She snapped on some latex gloves and rolled up Lily’s sleeve, brushing Lily’s pulse point and making her shiver.

Marlene was unlike any woman Lily knew. Her eyebrows were dyed black to match her cropped hair and contained almost as many piercings as her ears. Her arms, sticking out of a printed tank, were absolutely covered in tattoos. She had more muscles than all of the university rugby players combined. And speaking of rugby players, if stupid James Potter hadn’t challenged her to that dare during pub night, she wouldn’t even be here.

“Alright, sweetheart. Stay still for me. Lie back and relax.”

Lily giggled. She might have gone a bit mad — well, madder. This whole thing was already mad.

Marlene paused, needle poised mid-air. “Something funny?”

“Ah, no. Well, maybe. It sounds a bit inappropriate, doesn’t it? Just lie back and relax. Should I think of England too?” Lily joked.

Marlene started the needle, and Lily tensed at the harsh buzzing sound. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so funny anymore.

“You can think whatever you want, as long as you don’t move.” She gripped Lily’s arm and brought the tip to Lily’s skin.

At the first touch, Lily gasped. It was certainly painful, the prick of the needle piercing her skin, but it was also strangely blissful, the rush of endorphins and adrenaline causing her body to flush with heat.

“You doing alright, honey?” Marlene paused, wiping the excess ink gently with a wet cloth, cool against Lily’s heated skin.

Lily gulped. “Good. Yes, fine, thank you.”

“Such impeccable manners. So cute.”

Lily couldn’t tell if her flush was from the stinging pain, the unexpected compliment, or Marlene’s sudden proximity as she bent over Lily’s arm.

By the end of the session, Lily was trying not to squirm in the chair, her entire body vibrating with need. She outright moaned when Marlene finished wrapping her arm and started pulling away.

“Well, aren’t you a darling?”

Lily only whimpered, too high-strung, too blissed out to say anything else.

“Up you go. Come on.” 

Marlene helped her stand on wobbly legs, then guided her toward her lap. She straddled Marlene’s lap, her skirt riding up. Marlene’s hands skimmed beneath the hem, grabbing her arse and moving her hips. Lily’s cunt slid over her thigh, back and forth, rubbing with just the right amount of friction. Lily moaned, head lolling back and eyes slipping closed.

“That’s it now. Just relax.”

Lily giggled, and Marlene smiled. She bent over to lick at Lily’s neck, rumbling in her ear, “Now you can be as inappropriate as you want.”

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 27 | Masterlist | Day 29 →

[lumosatnight]

Malkin/Narcissa

@apricitydays-lazynights this was such a fun ship to write!!! Of course, Narcissa spends a lot of time getting robes fitted. Even in canon we often see her in Madam Malkin’s. Hmmm, I wonder why 😘

💟 @kinktober-2025 day alt: uniform kink, @hpsaffics spooky day 11: sensation 💟 dressing room, consensual underage sex (Narcissa is 17), vaginal fingering

Last Fitting

“You’re late,” Narcissa Black said crisply. 

Madam Malkin entered the dressing room and closed the curtains. She looked over her client from head to toe and flicked her wand for the tape measure to start unfurling.

“I’m not,” she said. “You were early.”

Narcissa’s lips were stained a bright red, and Malkin watched in the mirror as they pursed in displeasure. She had known Narcissa since she was a girl, at her first uniform fitting. Narcissa had always been spoiled and vain, wanting Malkin’s unwavering attention, to own the prettiest dresses in the shop, no matter the price, but as she grew, that had turned into something more, something darker. Now, at her last uniform fitting, Malkin was keenly aware of the time that had passed, how much things had changed.

The tape measure fluttered between them, flying over Narcissa’s body and caressing pale skin. Malkin paused it with her hand and pressed it against the waistband of the pleated skirt, running down the seam.

“How does this length feel?”

Narcissa’s red lips opened on an exhale. “Shorter,” she breathed.

Malkin waved her wand. The skirt’s hem rolled up an inch, pins floating over and keeping it in place.

“Shorter.”

Another inch was rolled. Malkin’s hand skimmed lower, across bare skin. Narcissa’s thigh twitched at the sensation.

“More.”

“Any shorter and your lovely arse will be hanging out.” Malkin didn’t miss the flush of red across Narcissa’s cheeks. “Unless that’s what you want.”

“And if that is what I want?” She was young but determined. Malkin had to admire her for that.

“Then I would be happy to oblige.”

She rolled the skirt another inch, the pale globes of Narcissa’s arse barely peeking out the bottom. Malkin’s hand skimmed over them, kneading them with her thumb, the soft, plush muscle. 

“Anything else I can help you with today?” 

“I require new undergarments,” Narcissa said in a rush.

“Of course. Right away.”

Malkin hooked a finger beneath her underwear. They were red lace, the same red as her lipstick, and already soaked through. She slid them down Narcissa’s bare legs, revealing glistening folds.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” Malkin brushed her thumb over Narcissa’s wetness, a feather-light touch that made her shiver.

“No.”

“Good.”

Malkin met Narcissa’s eyes in the mirror as she pushed the first finger in. Narcissa’s pretty red lips parted in a gasp, her neck flushing a blotchy red. She pushed until the entire finger was inside, then crooked it.

“And here?”

“N-No.” Narcissa shook her head, mouth open, already panting for it. She looked so young like this, pliant in Malkin’s skilled hands.

“Even better.”

Narcissa was so wet, so tight. She made the prettiest sounds. She would look lovely riding Malkin’s thigh, so flooded with arousal, she would leave a nice wet spot on the fabric.

Two fingers. That was all it took. Narcissa’s body tensed, her gasping moans filled the room. She held Malkin’s gaze, flushed face glowing with triumph as pleasure overtook her.

Also read it on AO3!

← Day 12 | Masterlist | Day 14 →