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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months ago

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Pyramid Head! König

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Size Difference, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Dubious Consent, Tummy Bulging, Cockwarming, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Squirting, Mention of Gangbanging, Sadistic! König, Degenerate! König, Breeding Kink, Profanity, Implied Fem Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Pyramid Head! König is a SEX. PEST. EXTRAORDINAIRE.

He pursued you relentlessly until he finally caught you, literally picking you up by the collar of your shirt like you were a wet cat and taking you home with him.

Pyramid Head! König treats you as his own human pet. He dresses you up in clothes he finds on his travels, brings you little trinkets for you to play with and look at, tries petting you without crushing your body beneath his mammoth strength.

He treats you like property in other regards, too. Typically of the breeding variety.

Pyramid Head! König’s sex drive is really something to behold. Just ask any of the monsters roaming around Silent Hill and, if they could, they’d tell you what a degenerate he is – how insatiable and relentless he can be.

Pyramid Head! König uses anyone and anything for his own pleasure if he’s horny enough. And, lucky him, he now has you at his side 24/7.

Pyramid Head! König is absolutely massive compared to you and he makes no effort to hide it. He picks you up and uses you as his own fleshlight, holding you about the waist and spearing you on his cock, pumping you up and down the shaft while growling beneath his veiled mask.

He cares little for your cries. In fact, they seem to spur him on.

Pyramid Head! König is absolutely fascinated by the shape of his cock protruding from inside your stomach. Sometimes, he’ll make you sit on him just so he can press and prod at the outline, his dick stiffening at every clench, cry and moan you make while your body acts as unwilling shelter for his cock.

You swear you can even see the outline of a vein and the pulsing of the tip. Feel it inside you like a second heartbeat.

So it’s no surprise to anyone that Pyramid Head! König is a big cockwarming fan. Literally the biggest.

Pyramid Head! König can make you sit on his dick for hours before he decides to use your body as little more than a cocksleeve and starts pounding into you.

When he cums, it’s thick and fast. He holds you in place while he fills you, watching your stomach swell with his cum as if he were filling a balloon.

Even when you whine and tell him it’s painful, that you feel as if you’re about to burst, he doesn’t let up. He’s far too enamoured with the bloating in your middle to care what you think.

Pyramid Head! König’s favourite thing to do is, when he’s completely emptied himself inside you, press down on your stomach and hear you cry out. God, nothing makes him feel or act more feral.

Nor does anything compare to sight or the feeling of his seed squirting out of you and spraying across his butcher’s apron when he presses down on your stomach, forcing hours of carnal pleasure from your body as if to purge and prepare you for another round.

Pyramid Head! König wears those stains like a badge of honour.

If you ever displease Pyramid Head! König, he shackles you to a corner and cums on you for days at a time, repeatedly, until you’re literally almost drowning in a pool of his cum.

He doesn’t care that he’s practically shooting dust by the end of it; the sight of you drenched and crusted in his semen makes the cramping in his hand and cock more than worth it, to see you so utterly humiliated and his.

Pyramid Head! König doesn’t let you wash it off until he deems you worthy of such a privilege. And when he can finally wrangle his libido back into some form of order, regardless of how minimal that may be.

More often than not, he ends up licking you clean before you can go in search of soap and water. With what appendage, you have no idea. All you know is that it’s long, wet and slips out from under his mask like a tentacle, relinquishing you of one bodily fluid in exchange for another.

Despite Pyramid Head! König’s possessive demeanour, he isn’t above enlisting the help of other monsters and manifestations to get his point across.

If ever you do something to royally piss him off, he’ll actually bring a monster (or two, or five) to you – those he can control with his influence – and make them fuck you.

Pyramid Head! König enjoys seeing you in pain when you’ve wronged him. Especially when, as he pulls you out from the mound of flesh and forced orgasms, he appears as your hero. Your saviour.

Only to use you again as he always does. As he always will.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad X

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sun-kissy · 2 months ago

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heaven | r.l.

i don’t know what this is… not a fic, more like a word vomit about remus loving you HAHA enjoy <3

Remus Lupin wasn’t religious in one way or another. But even he knew you were godsent.

Passed out, lying with twisted limbs and a drool-filled mouth; you looked nothing short of an angel.

He touches you, you don’t stir. That’s good, he thinks. It means he has more time to love you without having to accept undeserved affection in return.

He’d asked the question a thousand times, thought about it even more. Why me? And you’d smile at him like he wasn’t a monster, like he wasn’t born to kill. Who else? you’d say. And that’s when Remus realised that it doesn’t take kindness to love somebody; all it takes is that ache in your heart and burn in your fingertips. He wasn’t kind; yet he loved you.

The tips of his fingers dance across your cheek, feeling the soft skin on which his lips had made their home. He has unordinary courage tonight; he dares to bring his other hand to rest on the curve of your hip.

He brushes his thumb, featherlike, underneath your shirt. His shirt. You make a soft sound, and it’s all he needs to hear to know what heaven sounds like.

Remus had never felt like yours was more than a title until he met you. He was yours, yours to love, yours to break, yours to throw away. He belonged to you, and that was the greatest badge of honour any man could wear. He wanted you to touch him, make your mark upon him until it burnt, and he’d thank you for branding him with the etch of your thumbprint.

You were perfect; in every sense of the word. He’d learn every tongue till he was fluent in showing you how utterly divine you were. The dark lines on your thighs didn’t bother him nearly as much as they did you, and neither did the scars. He cursed himself reverently for his own; but never yours. Every mark on your being was a part of you, every inch of your skin a holy grail he’d read without complaint.

He’d worship you if you’d let him. Let his hands find their haven in every nook and crevice of your perfect body, whisper feverish words of cadence and cruelty till you screamed his name. You allowed him to touch you; and that was enough for now.

As he feels you now, mindlessly splaying his hands on your bare back, your eyes flutter open. Remus doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the jerk of his heart stopping when you look at him like that. You reach for him with a smile even in half-lidded consciousness; he goes without protest because it’s you.

He knew forever wasn’t a word meant for lovers. But for now, he can hold you in his arms and hear your heartbeat when you pull him in. You'll let him tell you he loves you till the grave, and that is compensation enough.

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ffsg0jo · 7 months ago

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yeah manwhore gojo is great but what about touch starved gojo who fantasises holding your hand. spends his nights dreaming about the way you would feel cuddled in his arms. his entire face red and blushing at the mere thought of your lips chastely pressing against his. he can't stay thinking about that too long though because it'll result in him giggling and kicking his feet all night and getting no sleep.

gojo who sits downs next to you and almost combusts feeling your soft thigh lightly pressing against his. he just yearns to be close to you in any way possible. his leg wrapped around yours whilst you're sitting opposite each other, his pinkie always reaching for you. he's always blushy and giggly around you and it's the most adorable thing ever. this man loves you so much and he's not afraid to show it at all. he wears the simp title like a badge of honour.

it's not just physically either. he no longer thinks in his own voice. his entire brain has literally been rewired ever since meeting you. your voice is always replaying in his head, the way you say his name is on repeat 24/7. the sweet little nicknames you give him too.

like yes, he is your sweet little cuddlebug and he is your cutie patootie blue eyes white dragon. and he's so proud of it. yk those titles people have after their names like DClinPsy and MBBS, he has that in his bio too, but it's just silly little nicknames you've given him.

this man is a true loverboy through and through.

#🌻.lija speaks #love manwhore gojo don't get me wrong he's great but there's something just so soft about touch starved gojo #he's not used to being loved on by someone so even the smallest amount of affection and attention has him soaring to the moon #and he's not shy or quiet about it either he wants you to know how you affect him and how deeply he appreciates and cherishes your love #he's the bestest #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk writing #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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yourdivinity · 10 months ago

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The sting of my slaps make your pathetic cock so hard. Before you can even catch your breath, your mouth will be full. I want you gagged and drooling like the stupid slut you are and taking each slap in stride, wearing the red print like a badge of honour

#female led marriage #female led relationship #feminization kink #feminized husband #forced feminized #locked and denied #locked in caged #permanent feminization #sissy and slave #sissy caged #bdsmkink #bdsmblog #bd/sm community

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moondirti · 24 days ago

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johnny wears his sense of duty like a gold-gleaming badge of honour. and if you were to ask any one of his doting relatives, they'd tell you that indeed, he's a stand-up lad. the best our clan’s got tae offer.

johnny hones his sense of duty like a sword of high-carbon steel. his brothers in arms each have a story to credit their continued survival to him. carried me out the crash site while under heavy fire. anyone else would have left me for dead.

johnny wields his sense of duty like a heat-resistant kevlar shield. that is to say, do enough good for God and He will align your interests.

the train is empty and the hour is late. any partner worth their salt would not let you be here alone under these conditions – in your condition. he thinks it says something about your lack of one. or he's just hoping; just testing the line that marks how far he's willing to go.

he's antsy in his seat across the car. his right leg jumping, and not for their jostling along the tracks. a weight like a stone grows heavy in his crotch. he itches to adjust it, to pull his cock up under his waistband. but he's also staring, has been staring, and while he doesn't think you've noticed yet, you definitely will when the strange man donning fatigues sticks his hands down his pants.

there's a level he knows not to reach for while this exposed. johnny would rather keep his reputation shiny in the eye of the public. likes the praise too much to consider damaging it, like a dog stowing his messes under the couch.

so he sits, twitching but patient. a good old boy. sniffs. rests his elbows on his knees and squeezes his legs together to slyly grind into himself. he imagines what you must smell like between those soft legs of yours, imagines rubbing his face against the gusset of your underwear to soak himself in the scent. he's no stranger to pussy, he wonders if it tastes any different. his stare flattens over your calves. he tries to gather some phantom estimate in the salivate coating his tongue.

he thumbs the latin cross pendant he wears around his neck. God answers with a particular rough shake of the train car.

having already been fixated on your bottom half, he's one of the first to notice. second to only you, of course. a surge of water gushes out between your legs, splattering across the floor to become a puddle underneath your feet. your darling little face drops, eyes blowing comically wide as your hand slaps over your mouth in disbelief. the man standing next to you stumbles away, lifting his shoes to check for any damage. an old lady tuts.

and then, silence. no one does anything but stare.

johnny jumps from his seat, jogging to hover over you.

"ye awright, hen? aww, aw, c'mon. it's okay, y'wee thing. shhhh," he helps you up out of your seat, smoothing one hand down your back and the other over your heavy belly. one look at his clothing, at the MTP print that could only mean one thing, and you're leaning your full weight into him, blinking back a barrage of tears.

"s-sor– i'm so sorry. i– i think... think that was– my water broke." you sniff, tucking your face into his side to hide from the useless muppets surrounding you. he feels a swell of pride stretching the walls of his chest. his cock hasn't stopped throbbing despite the commotion.

"naebody faults ye for it. a��natural. a blessin', aye?" he says, not before clearing his throat of the lust he's sure coats it. "have ye got a birth plan? any hospital ye've made preparations wi'?"

"n-no." you shake your head. your voice is muffled between his layers of clothing, and he notices the gooseflesh of your skin just then. he's slipping his coat off within seconds, draping it over your shoulders, then combs the sweaty baby hairs off your temple. his fingers look rough, too big, against the dewy stretch of your forehead.

"there’s one near the next station. we’ll get aff there. ah’ll stick wi' ye, bonnie. ye dinnae have tae worry aboot a thing but yersel'."

and you nod, because of course you do. he's got commitment practically tattooed right there on his arm, alongside the SAS emblem and the cursive 141 gaz made him get on a dare. and johnny peddles that sense of duty like the psyops they've been taught to watch out for — to cover up the fact that it's a commitment to the wrong thing.

(he'll stick with you, alright.)

#tw pregnancy #brought to you by my months long writers block #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader

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megwritesriddles · 1 month ago

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I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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