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#young harry
fruitcoops · 1 year
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Random Idea: would you write something about 5-6 year old Harry wandering off at a game against the snakes and playing with little Draco before anyone realizes then Lily finding them and not messing it up because just because their dads are huge rivals doesn’t mean the kids have to be??
Just an idea, if you can’t think of anything good no pressure at all!
-kj
This is such a lovely prompt, KJ <3 Character credit goes to @lumosinlove !
TW for temporarily lost child
Lily was calm. Lily was level-headed. Lily was not, under any circumstances, going to lose her shit.
“Harry? Harry, love, time’s up!”
Because losing her shit wouldn’t do any good. Losing one’s shit was reserved for people who could afford to do so, those who didn’t have a husband and brother-in-law that would tear the rink apart at the first sign of trouble for their five-year-old.
Oh, who was she kidding. The entire team would go ballistic.
Worst of all, Lily would have to admit she had lost her kid.
“I am a horrible mother,” she muttered, the clack of her boots in the empty hall speeding up to match her pulse. “I am a horrible, horrible mother and they never should have let me leave the hospital with that baby. Harry? Are you down here?”
Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she heard giggling. Lily’s heart seized and she wrenched open the nearest door—nothing. And the next, and the next, and the next, until her whole body itched with anxiety.
“I know you’re having fun, baby,” she called around the growing lump in her throat. “But we’re all done playing right now. All done. You did such a good job finding your hiding place. Can you show me where you are?”
I look like an idiot right now, talking to myself in an empty hall. The next three rooms were empty as well, lined with folding chairs. A conference room, a ballroom, a kitchen; not a soul in any of them. Lily picked up the pace.
He couldn’t have gone far. She only gave him ten seconds—ten seconds, sweetheart, are you ready?—to find somewhere to hunker down. The sound of his little feet on the crisp linoleum had made her smile with one hand over her eyes, counting slow enough for him to hear each number. The door had been closed. It was just them in the break room.
The door had been closed, and then it wasn’t.
“Harry?” Panic turned her mouth bitter and she swallowed hard, forcing it back. None of that, Evans. Save it for later. “Harry James, it’s time to go home.”
Oh, fuck, James was going to lose his mind. She loved him for his rationality in the face of danger but god only knew what would happen when their fucking baby was the one missing. Taken—
No. Not taken. Lily couldn’t bear the thought.
Her breaths came faster. The corners of her vision blurred. “Harry?” she tried again, voice cracking. “We’re all done playing, baby, come see me.”
Even if James managed to keep his even keel, Sirius wouldn’t. Loyal as a dog and twice as protective. Lily loved him like a brother but he would never forgive her if she let Harry go.
“I didn’t.” The words stuck in her mouth and she sniffled. She paused, tucking her arms around herself like a hug, her lungs fucking burned oh god—“I didn’t let him go, I didn’t, I didn’t, I—Harry, love?”
And again, she was left with a silent hall.
Lily exhaled. Pressed the heels of her hands to her stinging eyes. Sniffled once, twice, three times, forced down a thick sob. “This is not the time,” she said firmly, bringing her arms back down. The bright lights made her grimace. Think. “Alright. Locker room.”
She sent a silent prayer of thanks to James for showing her all the secret nooks for sneaky kisses as she followed winding paths through the rink. The crowd above made the ceiling rumble; there had hardly been ten minutes left in the third when Lily left the break room. The game would be over all too soon. Her watch said only five minutes had passed, but she refused to believe it had been less than a lifetime since she saw Harry in front of her.
The locker room, one of Harry’s favorite haunts (much to James’ delight), was well and truly empty. The kitchen was still locked as she had left it. Momentary terror gripped her when she saw the open maw of the tunnel, but logic won out. Even if Harry had wandered toward it, he would have been swept up by one of the security guards and safely deposited with someone who would find her.
“Lily?”
Lily nearly jumped out of her skin and whipped around with a half-gasped “fuck”.
Layla smiled, though she seemed confused. “You okay?”
“Mhmm.” Tears began crawling up her throat again and she forced a smile. “Just—yeah, just left my phone somewhere. Can’t find it.”
“Okay,” Layla said gently, though one look told Lily she didn’t buy a word of it. “Well, I’m here until the end of the game. Let’s look together.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Lily managed.
“Anytime. Let’s go get Harry and—”
Lily may as well have become a puddle on the skate-scuffed floor with how fast she dissolved into tears.
“Hey, hey, alright.” Layla caught her under the arms when her knees buckled, surprisingly strong for someone of her stature. “I’ve got you, it’s all going to be just fine. Is Harry not…with you?”
“We were p-playing hide and seek,” she sobbed. “ ‘s just hide ‘n seek, he didn’t like the crowd and I had to pee and we were in the break room and I closed the door I promise.”
“I know you did,” Layla soothed, squeezing her tight despite Lily’s trembling. “Let’s take some deep breaths together.”
Lily’s chest lurched on the first.
“That was a really good start. One more.”
It was easier to breathe when she wasn’t alone.
“Great job, Lily, that was perfect.”
Layla hugged a little like Remus, a little like James, and somehow better than both of them in that moment. She let Lily clutch the back of her zip-up sweater without protest, and when they finally parted (when Lily could fucking breathe again), she tucked the wild flyaways back with a reassuring smile.
“We’ve got this.”
Lily sniffed. “We’ve got this.”
“How long ago were you playing?”
“Seven minutes.”
Relief eased the faint tension around Layla’s eyes. “Then we’ve got nothing to worry about. I haven’t seen him go by my office, so he probably went the other way. Are you ready to start looking?”
Lily nodded, but went into one last hug like she hadn’t been held in weeks. It certainly felt like it.
“I didn’t know who to ask,” she admitted once they started walking, arm in arm, looking into every storage closet they passed. “It felt—god, I’m so stupid. I felt like I shouldn’t have to, y’know? He’s my kid. I should just…know.”
Layla tilted her head from side to side. “I’m glad you asked me, though.”
Lily squeezed her hand. “Me, too.”
“The good news is, he can’t have gone very far.”
“I dunno, he got James’ penchant for trouble.”
“Pots can’t make it past me on a good day,” Layla laughed. Her ease calmed the bubbling anxiety in Lily’s gut. “That kid might be quick, but he’s not making it past trained security. Where have you already looked?”
Lily gestured vaguely. “The other way, mostly. Just kind of…everything over there. He likes the locker room.”
“Does he?” Something thoughtful came over Layla’s face and she slowed for a moment. “Would he—and tell me to shut up if I’m wrong, here—do you think he’d try the other one?”
“The other—” Lily faltered. “Oh my god, you’re so right.”
“I don’t know if he’d know where it is,” Layla admitted as they hurried down the left fork. “But it can’t hurt to try, right?”
“No, he definitely knows,” Lily snorted humorlessly. “That kid’s had more rink tours than I have. The guys bring him everywhere. He’s started reading signs, if you can believe it.”
“For real?”
“If anyone asks, he got it from me.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second.”
Lily rounded the corner to the visitor’s locker room and slowed to a stop, her momentary second wind rushing out in one harsh burst. Gloves, helmets, emerald-and-silver jerseys…and no toddler. The only movement came from the screen in the far corner, showing the last minute of the game ticking down. Disappointment, worry, fear, guilt—it was all there, leaving her right back where she started. “I thought…”
Someone giggled down the hall and Lily was there in the blink of an eye, pushing an already-open door wide with her heart in her throat.
“H—oh.”
Narcissa Malfoy’s razor-sharp gaze softened with confusion. Her hands were on the shoulders of a little blond boy in a miniature Snakes jersey, holding him tight. “Mama,” he whined, wriggling free with a wary look at Lily. “I told you I wanna play.”
Lily didn’t register the scrape of carpet on her knees until Harry was already in her arms, still holding two fistfuls of LEGOs while a cheerful flood of a story spilled out of him. She didn’t hear a single word of it.
He was warm and squirmy as always, tall as her hip when they were standing but just big enough to fit in her arms like this. She pressed her face to his hair and inhaled; soap-clean and still a little damp from his pre-game bath. Faintly, she knew she was shaking. She knew Narcissa and Layla and the other kid were probably watching. Lily brought her face up to kiss Harry’s forehead and bundled him right back in her arms to be hugged some more.
“…mama?” Harry sounded hesitant. She hummed, rubbing his back. “Did you hear?”
“Say it again, lovey.”
“I said I like hugs but I’m playing LEGOs right now, please.”
Her lungs felt too small. “We’re all done playing for today.”
“But mama—”
“Harry.” It took everything in her to separate and sit up properly, holding Harry at arms’ length. “We were playing hide and seek, remember?”
“…yeah.”
“And remember how I asked you to stay in the break room while I counted?”
His guilty look told her everything. “Yeah.”
Lily raised a brow, brushing a gentle thumb over his cheek. “I didn’t know where you went, baby. You scared me. Why did you leave?”
Harry scuffed his shoe on the floor. “Got bored.”
“Harry.”
“I wanted to see the other locker room ‘cause Daddy said it looked different than ours. Ms. Narcissa found me.”
“Thank you.” The worst part was, Lily could hardly blame him. If Harry got James’ general disregard for rules, he also got her own insatiable curiosity. Poor kid, she thought. Your teachers are going to have quite the time with you. “We’ll talk more when we get home. Can you introduce me to your friend?”
“I’m Draco,” the blond boy announced haughtily before Harry could answer, which seemed to take the wind out of his sails a bit. “I’ve been playing here all night. I built the volcano, see?”
“I do.” In truth, it was hard to tell one part of their LEGO mishmash from another, but it seemed to appease him. Narcissa was still watching her as if she thought Lily would start biting. With her hand resting protectively on Draco’s back and those careful, guarded eyes, it was only too easy to see the blood she shared with Sirius. They held themselves with the same straight-backed posture, a silent challenge to take another step closer to their ward.
Lily offered a small smile and inclined her head. Thank you for watching them both. Narcissa didn’t relax, but her pointed chin did dip for half a second.
Outside, the goal horn blared. Harry and Draco made identical faces of annoyance at the interruption, but Lily felt her stomach sink. She and Narcissa had a shared point of contact—the Snakes, on the other hand, did not. She didn’t care for them. She certainly didn’t want Harry around them. From the curl of Narcissa’s lip as the whoops of the Lions echoed down the far tunnel, the feeling was mirrored on her side.
Lily broke eye contact first and bent to Harry’s level. “Time to go, lovebug, Daddy misses you. Can you say bye to Draco?”
“Bye!” Harry chirped, pulling the other boy into a brief hug that seemed to surprise him before returning to Lily’s side. “See you next time!”
The look on Narcissa’s face told Lily a ‘next time’ was unlikely, but…but not impossible. Lily sent her a final nod as she ushered Harry into the hallway. Layla was already gone; she couldn’t help but be grateful for a brief moment of alone time with Harry.
“I like Ms. Narcissa,” Harry announced, hopscotching the gray and white tiles.
“Do you?”
“Yep. She was nice. She keeps LEGOs in her purse, didja know that?”
“I didn’t,” Lily admitted. “I’m not surprised, though.”
“How come you don’t keep LEGOs in your purse?”
“Because I don’t use purses. I lose them too fast.”
“Well, yeah, but what about your backpack?”
“I keep books, cards, snacks, and some other things in my backpack. I like feeling prepared.” And I’m thirty seconds from sticking a GPS on you.
Harry made a faint noise of agreement when they entered the main hall, pulling the sleeves of his too-big Potter jersey down over his hands. “D’you think Daddy will play LEGOs with me and Draco next time?”
Lily had to bite her lip to stifle a hoot of laughter at the thought of James Potter willingly sitting in a room with anyone even distantly related to the Snakes, let alone one of Sirius’ cousins, let alone a Malfoy. “He’s busy during the games,” she said instead. “But he would love to play with you at home.”
Where I can keep an eye on you, she added. They had already passed the labyrinth of halls she had wandered for the worst seven minutes of her life, but she kept close to Harry anyway. Seven minutes was too long to be away from him. Seven seconds was too long.
Harry stopped just outside the locker room, leaning against her legs to look up at her with big, pleading eyes. “Will you play LEGOs with us next time?”
There were a variety of reasons Lily could say no, could tell Harry to stay away from that team and everyone near it. Hell, she had a damn good reason to keep Harry away from anyone associated with Sirius’ parents. Narcissa’s guarded posture rose in her memory, unwarranted. Her crisp clothes, the abrupt black-and-white of her hair, the way her pale hand had been so gentle on Draco’s shoulder. The way Draco had held on to her coat the same way Harry hid behind her own around strangers.
“Sure, baby. We can do that.”
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Chapter Sixteen Snippet
The morning light filters in through the window of Regulus’ home. White curtains blowing in on the cool summer morning breeze, sounds of the city waking up around them slowly. Mornings like this are his favorite, gentle and quiet, stuck somewhere between a dream. 
Music floats from down the hall,  as Regulus pads across the tiled floor, making a cup of coffee. He’s barely taken a sip before  thud, thud, thud, THUD. The floor shaking as something crashes to the ground.
Panic tightens around his chest – heart in his throat– turning the conner he spins out of the kitchen. Harry is lying on the floor face down like a starfish, a laundry basket skidded across the floor and a crash pad of pillows surrounding him on the floor. 
“Haz,” He exhales with relief, “Really, it's not even seven in the morning yet. You should still be asleep. He would be more worried if this hadn’t happened before. It’s  been the year of Peter Pan. Obsessed with fighting pirates, looking for fairies in the garden, and flying. Or trying to. At least he was wearing a helmet this time. 
Harry rolls over, pushing himself up with a big grin, missing two teeth, another flying failure. “I think I almost flew that time.”
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The prompt today is again for @wolfstarmicrofic and I bring you a little Wolfstar raises Harry bit.
”AGAIN!” shrieks Harry excitedly as Sirius captures him, matching his godson’s laugh before hoisting him back into the air, catching him easily.
Remus watches them fondly from behind his sunglasses, a warmth settled in his chest at the sight of them. Harry’s pure undiluted joy, green eyes glittering as he’s gasping for air between fits of laughter, the love and affection plainly visible on Sirius’ face whenever he looks at the boy, his grey eyes shining and the muscles in his arms flexing as he once again catches him easily before setting him back down on the ground, the boy clinging to one of his arms.
”Nooo! Againnn, Pa’foot!” Harry demands with a whine, hanging on to him as he bounces on his feet.
”Padfoot needs a breather, mate,” Sirius laughs, breathlessly, slumping down on the lounger next to Remus, Harry still tugging at his arm.
”Padfoot’s getting old, Haz,” Remus teases, lips quirking at the indignant noise coming from Sirius.
”Lies,” he huffs.
”Why are you old, Pa’foot?” Harry questions as he climbs on top of Sirius, settling on top of him with a pout.
”Yeah, why are you old, Pads?” Remus echoes with raised eyebrows, not bothering to hide his smirk as Sirius snorts.
”It’s no fun when you’re old,” Harry complains with a dramatic tone, wriggling on top of his godfather, ”you should be a boy like me and Moony.”
Sirius pretends he doesn’t hear Remus’ chortle, his hands clamping down on Harry, fingers poking at the boy’s sides where he was the most ticklish, making him squirm and shriek with laughter.
”I’ll show you old, you little terror.”
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basketgays · 1 year
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A ghost of HDB’s past possessed me to make this. To emphasize his powers - I haven’t drawn since August. There’s so much trauma in this bad boy! Yum-yum.
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veesstar0555 · 6 months
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james: can you babysit harry for a bit?
remus:
remus: okay.. sure?
*an hour later*
remus: uhmmm, you want a beer?
sirius: HES FOUR?
remus: I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIM?
sirius: NOT BLOODY INTOXICATE HIM!
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dontgogh0st0nme · 2 years
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#harry
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bciwasinlove · 2 years
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So I come on to find out Liam is claiming a member of 1D pushed him into a wall ??? And that he doesn't like Zayn ???
Couple things...
One why tf are people saying it was Harry [if it did happen] why wouldn't it be Zayn who he just said he didn't like ???
Second interesting to note three members now have had either a negative reaction when Zayn was brought up or said something negative about Zayn but some still don't think Zayn left 1D on bad terms.
Third if Liam is going to make a claim like that publicly why won't he fully commit and say who did it ??? Don't say someone pushed you into a wall and then NOT say who.
Fourth it seems clear some members of 1D do NOT get along so if all of 1D don't get along anymore then no OT5s can make me feel bad bc I don't stan all 5 as a former directioner.
Fifth I've never unnecessarily said anything bad about those I don't stan and usually tried to stay neutral on them but I'm starting to really get annoyed with Liam's comments lately. I've kept my mouth shut before but now I'm done. It's fine if you are an OT5 but don't try to act like I have to be to.
Sixth if you think Harry would ever do something like that plz stay far away from me. Some are saying oh when Harry was young he probably did it. Young Harry as in shy timid shakes his mic while singing young Harry ??? Young Harry who was afraid of any hate messages thrown his way ??? You think THAT Harry pushed someone into a wall.
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harries-are-scarie · 2 years
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Instagram dump 2!
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sadiewilliams · 16 days
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Young harryyyyyy❤️
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that-bitch-kat3 · 6 months
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walburga: you’re not good enough for my son
remus: you’re not good enough for your son
walburga: excuse me?
remus: you heard me.
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penseesduncookie · 8 days
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existential-queeer · 1 month
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Listen, I'm not the type to look for homoeroticism in every single male duo in media. Not everyone swings that way.
But those two?
I smell the fruitiest of fruit, your honor.
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ritathecat · 2 months
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Severus Snape - 1985
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coryosbaby · 4 months
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Mascara || T. Riddle
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Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’
Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader
。.。 ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom
Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.
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Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.
The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.
The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.
You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.
He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.
You let out a breath of air.
You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.
“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”
His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.
To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.
He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.
“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”
Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.
“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.
“Don’t.”
You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.
“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”
It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.
“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”
“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”
“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”
His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.
“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”
“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”
He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.
“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.
“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”
You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.
“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.
“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”
His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.
You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.
Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.
“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”
You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.
When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.
“Prepared, weren’t you?”
You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.
Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.
“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.
His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.
And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.
“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”
He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.
He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.
When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.
He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.
“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”
Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.
“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.
“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”
It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.
He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.
“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”
“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.
“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”
Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.
“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”
A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.
You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.
“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”
Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.
He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.
You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.
“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”
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dontgogh0st0nme · 2 years
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#harry
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dellaray · 4 days
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Tired Moony.. going back to my roots with this sketchy style, so so fun
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