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Chapter Text

A/N: content warnings for this chapter: gagging, degradation, consensual non-consent, blowjobs, tears, age gap, older man/younger woman, infidelity, dubious consent, BDSM dynamics, Dom/sub, punishment 

Chapter 1: Gagging 

”On your knees, slut.” 

Hermione felt Lucius guide her to the ground with just the head of his cane on her shoulders; his dominating demeanor made it impossible for her to deny him. She tried to think quickly. 

“Please, Sir, I’ll be good. I swear. No more guests while you’re out.” 

“Oh you mean you will find it in yourself to refrain from fucking random wizards in our home when I am away on business?” 

She looked at the floor, where the base of his cane rested by his feet and licked her lips, looking up at him through her lashes. “Yes, Sir.” 

He looked down at her beneath a curtain of platinum blond hair. "I don't believe you," he spit through clenched teeth. "Perhaps I should just take you back where I found you." 

"No!" Hermione's eyes went wide. "Please, please I'll be good." As she bowed her head again the medallion on her collar caught the light. Lucius used his cane to point to it. 

"I should take this collar back. You've been a bad girl, haven't you Hermione?" 

Her head still bowed she felt the tears start to well up. "Yes, Sir. I don't deserve to wear your collar, Sir." 

"Tell me what you did." 

"I," she paused. "I allowed another wizard to come into our home and I sucked his cock." She winced at the end. 

"Are you allowed to do this, slut?" 

"Not without you present, Sir." 

"So why did you break the rules?" 

The pressure of the shibari knot along her clit came back into sharp focus. "I was very aroused, Sir." 

"That is not a good enough reason. You will be punished for this, if you wish to remain my submissive. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Sir. Please let me make it up to you." She knelt before him, waiting for her salvation. 

“Take it out.” 

She kept her eyes down, head bowed reverently as she unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. 

“Tell me what you like about my cock, little slut.” 

Hermione studied it carefully, taking in every inch with her eyes. “It’s very heavy, Sir, and it stretches me so good. I love it when you use my...use me...to feel good.” 

"If you can't say the word 'pussy' then you shouldn't be fucking with it, should you, slut?" 

She blushed deep red. "No, Sir." 

"Try again." 

"I like it when you stretch my pussy with your cock, Sir." 

"Good girl." 

Hermione beamed silently. She loved his praise, needed it. 

Lucius smirked. "Now show me what you did to him." 

Her eyes snapped up to his in panic. "Sir?" 

"That's right, little slut," he said, cupping her cheek with his palm. "Show me how good you made him feel." 

Tears started to fall down her face. "Please, Sir, I don't want to. I don't want to think about him. I just want you." 

"Ah, ah, ah, but you did think about him didn't you? Or was it just your needy pussy you were trying to soothe." The silver head of his cane came to rest between her lips. 

"It was just me, Sir." 

Lucius smiled. "All right, then you may show me how you'd like to suck my cock." 

She attacked him at once, pulling him into her mouth and so far down there was no doubt as to where her loyalties lie; she worshipped his cock as if it were the only thing in her universe sacred enough to pray before, and she used her tongue and lips to show devotion. 

He held onto her hair, fingers twined in the curls as his perfect little slut sucked him. "That's right, good girl." 

She looked up into his eyes, her lips around his shaft, the base between her small hands, and deliberately, unblinking, took him deeper. 

Lucius heard the first noise of her gagging on him just as he felt the head of his cock make contact with the back of her throat. He almost lost it, feeling how well her soft flesh massaged his head, seeing the tears forming in her eyes with the discomfort. 

"My very, very good girl, Hermione." 

He saw her try to smile around his cock as she continued fucking her own throat with it, gagging and sucking and pulling him further into her with her hands pressed around him against his arse. 

"Do you want my seed, Hermione?" 

She nodded fervently, sucking faster. 

"Just mine?" 

She nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut as she tilted her head to give him as much access as possible. The sensation of his cock brushing against her tongue and her trying to suck his cum out of him into her belly made him lose it. 

He held her head with both hands as he fucked her mouth through the gagging sounds, coming down her throat, until he was spent and she popped off his shaft with a gasping breath, sinking further to her knees. 

He knelt down in front of her, wrapping her in his arms and tilting her face up to his for a kiss. 

He stroked her cheek with one finger, holding her close to his body, and kissed her sweet lips. 

"Beautiful girl." 

She smiled, her own eyes closing with exhaustion. "Thank you, Sir." 

"Let's go to bed. When you awake, I shall show you exactly how much your body is mine." 

Hermione smiled as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. 

She couldn't wait. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Voyeurism 

Draco turned a corner quickly, looking back over his shoulder to make sure that no one would see him walking through the corridors at two in the morning. Despite defecting at the end of the war, and Potter’s pardon, he still wasn’t well-liked. He didn’t need to give any of his eighth year professors a reason to give him detention just because he had felt like coping with his PTSD through drinking and sex. 

Truth was, he didn’t even like the women he was fucking. It just felt like a way to forget for five minutes that his life was not truly his own since the war had ended. Longer than that. 

He heard a soft moan from one of the classrooms he was approaching and slowed down, equal parts not wanting to get caught out of bed and curious as to the source of the sounds. 

"Severus..." 

Holy Merlin's balls, it's Granger. 

Despite having just come with what's-her-name from Ravenclaw, Draco felt his cock hardening as he listened to her whimper, the rhythmic thumping of thighs against a desk leaving no question as to what was happening. He cast a disillusionment charm on himself and slipped into the classroom. 

He was not disappointed. 

She was bent over a student desk at the front of the room, skirt flipped up as Snape pounded into her. 

"Fuuuuck," she whined, her eyes closed as her body was pressed forward over and over again, impaled on her professor's dick. 

"So. Fucking. Tight." Snape was gripping her hips so hard Draco was sure he would leave bruises. He tilted her pelvis so she was raised on her toes and must have hit a spot she liked because her breathy whine rose another octave.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck, please." 

Draco's hand was already rubbing his cock through his trousers and when Snape's hand came down hard on Granger's arse, Draco nearly groaned himself. 

"Such a good little slut, aren't you?" he praised her as his thrusts got faster. "Shall I let you come on my cock?" 

"Please, I need it, I need it." 

Draco unzipped his trousers as fast as he could and took his cock in his hand. He wanted to come just as badly as she did at this point, but where could he hide the evidence? 

"Come for me, witch," Snape ground out through his teeth, gripping her hips even tighter and pressing her forward so her clit was pushed into the desk. 

She came with his name on her lips and Draco had to strain not to paint the floor with his seed, realizing at the last moment that it would give him away. He held back, the edging painful and his balls churning as he watched her sigh and sink boneless against the desk. 

"Good girl," Snape drawled. He fucked her hard and fast for another thirty seconds and Draco stroked his own cock furiously. He would have to come and just risk it. He couldn't wait. 

Just as he was about to, Snape pulled out and shot his seed onto Granger's back, throwing his head back as his eyes closed in bliss. 

It was too perfect to pass up. 

Quickly, Draco stood beside them and came on her as well, his cum mixing with their potions master's on her pretty skin and her skirt. 

He stepped back with a gasp of relief, hoping neither of them heard him. 

Snape looked down at her back for a moment, and another, and then flipped her skirt down over it, pulling her knickers up from where they'd dropped to around her knees. 

She turned and leaned into him for a kiss. Surprisingly, the man lifted her chin gently and kissed her with an intimacy Draco wouldn't have expected from the way he was fucking her. 

She held around his waist for a moment before sighing. "Tomorrow?" 

"Of course, pet." 

He kissed her again and she slipped out of the room with a small wave. 

Draco stood silently, waiting for the wizard to leave. He cleaned the desk they'd defiled with a charm and headed for the door. 

"If you like your dick attached to your body, Draco—" 

Draco's blood turned cold. 

"—I suggest you never attempt such a thing again. I do not share." 

The other man left. 

Draco's heart beat wildly as he tried to calm the frantic rhythm and slow his breathing. But Snape didn't return. It seemed for tonight he was safe. He smirked. Tomorrow he'd have to be quieter. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Sensory Deprivation 

She felt the leather warm under her skin, the veins in the table's textured material pressing against her skin. The back of her heels, her calves, her thighs. Her arse, her shoulder blades, her palms. Everywhere that made a point of contact, she felt them. 

The faint scent of rose oil became stronger the longer she focused on it; there was little else she could do at that moment. It was comforting. The natural fibers of the rope prickled her wrists where they were bound to the table. 

The silk of the scarf around her eyes was soft and cool. 

There was no sound, no light, no worries. Nothing she had to do except wait. 

The longer she lay there the more even and relaxed her breathing became as everything from the day melted away. He must have sensed the change too; she heard the creak of the wooden chair, the soft scrape of feet against the floor deadened by the plush carpet she knew to be underneath them. 

The table must have come up about to his waist, but she could feel his breath on her ear. Was he kneeling? 

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?" 

She inhaled sharply; his velvety voice even smoother to her ears after such prolonged silence. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good girl." 

She felt the smile spread across her face, all tension gone from her body except where a small pool of heat pulsed low inside her core. 

The gentlest sensation crossed the skin over her stomach—fingertips grazing light as air. They traversed her body, up and down. Softly towards the insides of her thighs and back up to her breasts, avoiding the spots she most longed for contact. If she focused, she could feel the smallest hint of callouses where they touched her, rough from years of growing, cutting, preparing, brewing. 

The heat in her abdomen spread. 

The sensation ceased, and she groaned at the loss of contact. She heard a soft chuckle from somewhere beside her, above her; he must be standing again. 

And then the sharp bite of cold stung her nipple and she gasped, pulling against the binds that held her wrists and ankles in place. 

As soon as the cold touched her, it had moved, trailing a wet cool path along one breast and to the other. It touched her nipple again, the cold hardening the bud into a stiff peak, and was almost immediately replaced with a soft, warm mouth. 

Hermione moaned as Severus sucked her breast into his mouth, the deep pressure the strongest sense in her awareness at that moment. 

Until the ice touched her clit. 

She nearly bucked off the table, would have fallen off the leather surface if not for the jute fibers holding her in place as his mouth popped off of her. The sharp pull against her limbs stilled her once again, and all she could focus on was the single point where the ice was pressed against her sensitive bundle of nerves, the only other feeling the warm rush of arousal leaking from her slit. 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're leaking all over the leather, pet." 

She felt her face heat, grateful for the blindfold. 

"I will give you two choices. Either we can clean that up now, but you are not allowed to come, or we can leave your pussy a sticky little mess until later, but you don't get your treat." 

She held her breath. Both terrible, delicious options and he knew it. If he touched her there now, the edging would surely throw her entire body into a state of hypersensitivity. But if she chose not to let him edge her, then she wouldn't get what she wanted most... 

"I'd like to be cleaned now, Sir. Please." 

"As you wish, pet." 

His warm tongue was flat against her cunt seconds later, and the sensation was so much, after so long of feeling only concentrated areas of touch, that she almost came immediately. He must have known she'd get close; he pulled back, using the tip of his tongue to circle her clit, carefully taking the hood between his teeth and rolling the skin between them as he nibbled on the most sensitive area of her body. Her mouth was open, breath held, waiting, always just waiting, as he pierced her slit with his tongue, fucking her with it the way she wished his cock would slide into her. 

"Please." 

"No, pet," he said sternly. "Do not come." 

She whined but gritted her teeth, willing her aching body not to reach for release. 

She felt one more swipe of his wide tongue cover the length of her pussy before he blessedly, thankfully, stopped. 

She exhaled, feeling her body sink back into the leather beneath her, the scent of rose oil returning once again as her body calmed. 

"Almond or coconut?" 

She appreciated that even when she was divested of most choice, when she was at his whim, he gave her options. She liked feeling included, knowing that he wanted the experience to be tailored to her desire. 

"Almond, please." 

She heard the sound of it hit his hand before the warm oil was being rubbed into her skin, massaged into her calves, thighs, the dips of her hips, up over her breasts. His hands were rough and smooth at once and the sensation of having him everywhere after so little was overwhelming, pleasurable to the point of release that was just out of reach, her skin sensitized from the ministrations of his tongue moments earlier. 

He spent a considerable time massaging her breasts, catching her nipples between his fingers unexpectedly, the surprise making her breath catch as well. And then his hands were gone, and his voice was next to her ear. 

"Do you want me to paint you, Miss Granger?" 

"Yes," she hissed. "Please, Sir." 

She felt the soft breeze from his clothing pass her cheek as he stood. 

He dragged one finger down from her stomach through the soft patch of curls to her clit, circling around where she wanted him to touch, over and over again. 

"Shall I make you my own personal work of art?" 

"Yesss," she begged, trying to reach towards his finger with her hips. 

"Safe word, Miss Granger?" 

"Red," she breathed. She knew if he was asking, this would be more intense than the ice. 

Her nerves were singing, reaching out for stimulation. 

He did not disappoint. 

She felt the first splashes of the wax hit her thighs, melted pillars poured directly from their glass containers onto her slicked skin, the heat diffuse and arousing. So close to her center, but still so far. 

Beads of heat began to hit her, dotting the mound of hair covering her cunt, dappling her skin, up, up her stomach, her tits, hardening around her nipples. The smell of the warm almond oil and the heat of the candle wax were heady; she took a deep breath. 

"Severus." It was almost a whisper, but his hand was gently brushing the back of her cheek in an instant. 

"Yes, my love?" 

"I need you." 

"Almost, sweet girl. You're doing so well." 

She loved his praise, his words all the more powerful as the only sound, the only source of information in her world at the moment. Just words and touch and candle wax on her overstrung body. 

She felt the wax hardening, the skin under it drawing tighter. Her cunt was pulsing, trying to close around nothing and she was nearly ready to cry from need. 

"There we go, it's all dry. Would you like to see it, or would you like your reward with the blindfold on?" 

Hermione paused. She wanted to see how he'd decorated her skin, but she knew that her reward would feel better if she couldn't see. It would be stronger, like everything else that night. 

"The blindfold on, Sir." 

She felt his lips press gently against hers and he said against her mouth, "You're such a good girl, do you know that?" 

She keened and smiled against his kiss. And then she was alone at the top of the table again, his hands on her thighs as he slowly, slowly slid his hands up, under the wax, peeling it against the oil painlessly. 

She felt made new, recast in his desire, elementally made of submission and sensation and want. 

As he pushed off the last of the wax on her stomach and kissed around several spots of it on her breasts, she could take it no longer. 

"Please, Sir, I need you now." 

"Yes, pet." He kissed her nipple and she could feel the smile in his kiss. 

He unbound her ankles, gently massaging life back into her legs before he spread them further, pushing them back towards her body so she was bent in half and open to him. Hermione knew she was so exposed in that position, and was glad again for the inability to see it. Like this, she could feel no embarrassment. She was made of want, receiving the pleasure he gave her. 

She felt the tip of his cock brush her soaked slit and pushed her head further back into the table. They were nothing but sensation as he notched the head inside the opening of her tight, hot channel and her walls began gripping in anticipation. 

His thumb pressed into her clit, rubbing gentle circles against it, the pressure making her tighten and relax at once as he slid the rest of the way inside her. 

They both groaned at the heat, the contact. Hermione's entire existence, every bit of awareness was concentrated in the way his cock stretched her aching cunt, the slightest drag of his skin against her walls nearly sending her screaming in overwhelming bliss. 

"Not yet," he reminded her. 

She nodded fervently even as she licked her lips, biting them to hold back, to wait, to be his good girl. 

He held her hips; she could feel the pads of his fingertips pressing into her skin and just the slight cut of his short, trimmed nails for how hard he was gripping her as he sunk into her over and over again. 

"Gods, witch," she heard him murmur, his gravely voice peppering her senses like a pleasant buzz, each stroke winding the coil inside of her tighter and tighter. 

"Please, Severus," she begged, her breathy moans in time with his thrusts. Even with the scarf over her eyes, her vision was starting to speckle, her cunt tightening around him without her control. 

"Tell me what you want, witch. Ask for it." He pulled her thighs tight together, lying her legs against his chest, and wrapped his arm around them so he could fuck her faster and harder. 

Hermione clawed at the leather table, the texture arousing against her skin, the smell of rose and almond oil filling her nose, the tight drops of wax on her nipples, and opened her mouth. "Please," she breathed in benediction, "please come inside me." 

She couldn't see it, but she would bet he was smirking. "You naughty little girl, you want to be filled up don't you?"  

"Yes," she gasped. 

"You want to come with me inside you?" 

"Yes!" 

He thrust faster, harder, slipping his hand just over her clit but not touching. 

"Then come for me, witch, come for me and milk my cock inside that tight little pussy and you can keep it all, it's all yours. Take it from me, Hermione." 

He pinched her clit and she exploded around him, saw the stars she was sure should have been busy dotting the night sky behind her eyes, felt her core clench around him as if it would never let go. Every sense she had was heightened beyond her expectations, the smallest sounds from his lips pure music as he fucked her through the longest orgasm of her life. 

And then she got her reward. Finally, she thought as she sank into a blissed out state, feeling his cock harden impossibly further and then he groaned her name and his warm seed filled her up, deep, deep inside her body. She could feel the pressure, feel it sinking into her, right where it belonged. She smiled; perfect. 

He lowered her legs and untied her wrists, lifting her up even as his breathing still returned to normal, carrying her to a soft chair and wrapping her in a blanket, her skin against his. Every new touch and sensation was slightly overstimulating, but she was too happy to care. She let him move her and wrap her up and care for her and she was boneless with pure joy. 

Tranquility settled over them both as he stroked her hair, gentle kisses pressed to her forehead.

"Are you ready?" he asked. 

She nodded, her arms still wrapped around him, and he removed the blindfold. 

The light wasn't too overwhelming as he'd dimmed them to a soft glow. She blinked as she looked around, seeing the state of the massage table. Looked down at her own wax-covered tits and giggled. 

"I do look pretty." 

"You are beautiful." He kissed her hair. 

She hummed against his chest, content. He had promised to make it memorable, and he had delivered. 

In nine months, so would she. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Impregnation / Breeding 

Severus' hand fell from Narcissa's as the cords of the Vow sank into their skin. 

"Better. Come along, Cissy," Bellatrix ordered. 

"I'll be right there." Narcissa didn't turn to face her, and Snape flicked the door shut, warding it behind her. 

"Severus..." 

His hands came up to her face and he kissed her fiercely, roughly, biting her lip. 

She met him back, violence for violence as the tears fell. 

"Why would you do that?" she asked angrily.  

"I told you to take Draco and run last year, Narcissa! Why didn't you listen to me, foolish woman." 

They kissed with bites, staking claims, before gasping for breath, foreheads rested together. 

"I always knew I was going to lose you," she panted. "Why did you agree to that Vow?" 

"It was all I could do to protect you both." 

She looked grief-stricken, knowing it may be the last time she saw him. Certainly the last time alone. 

"Can I have one more thing?" she asked selfishly. 

"Anything." 

She kissed him hard, hands fumbling with his robes, the zipper of his trousers. He grabbed her hands and pushed them up, his arm around her waist lifting her as he pressed her back into the wall. Reached down for his cock as she pulled up her skirt. Red-rouged lips praying his name over and over again. 

He slid into her quickly, before either of them could prepare, but they found a quick, desperate rhythm and he buried his face in her neck. She threaded her fingers into his fine black hair and tried not to cry. 

"Please, Severus." 

"I want to hear it," he said, thrusting into her. 

"Please, Severus. Please." 

"Beg for it, witch." 

She grasped tightly around his shoulders as her cunt clenched his cock. "Please come inside me. Just this once. Please, I need to keep a part of you with me." 

He came immediately, their desperate coupling leading up to this for the two long years of their secret affair. He kissed her gently as he watched her eyes glaze over with satisfaction. 

"Thank you." 

He settled her on the ground as they righted their clothes. He walked to the library door. Before opening it, he turned to her, taking her in one last time. "Now you'll never lose me." The half-smirk was the closest thing to a smile she had ever seen on his face, and she knew it was better than the three words they had never dared say aloud. 

He left and she was alone. She smoothed her skirt, hand cupping her stomach and what couldn't possibly be there yet. Knowing that she would have to charm the hair blond until the war was over. Until they were safe. Until they were free. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Collaring 

He first saw her in the basement. She would later tell him that she'd seen him before that, in the Department of Mysteries, but he did not remember her. All of his attention that night was on Potter and getting the prophecy. 

The first time she made an impression, she was sitting in a corner of the basement of Malfoy Manor, dirt caked on her hands and face, clothes tattered at the knees where she'd been kneeling on the stone floor every day. She looked...tired. But not defeated. Resigned in her situation, but not broken. She had not yet lost hope of salvation.

He usually had the elves bring her food, but he needed to get something from the vaults, and he wanted to see the prisoners, to test the wards. Make sure they couldn't escape. Make sure the Dark Lord had nothing else he could punish Lucius for. He walked into the basement with a cold turkey sandwich in hand and flung it into her cell. She reached for it, examining the sandwich, and then looked at him. 

And smiled. 

It was the first time he felt sick to his stomach for the things he was doing, the lengths he had gone to. She was still an innocent, even after everything the war had put her through. That was the night he promised himself to get his family away from there, to get her out. To do better. And he did. 

So when he saw her five years later kneeling in front of one of the Dominants at the club, his heart stopped. Even before he saw her face, he knew it was her, her long, blonde hair shimmering down her back. 

As if she sensed him there, she turned, looking back over her shoulder and meeting his eyes. This time there were no jeans, no dirt, no hunger. But the faraway look remained. 

It took him several more weeks before he could bring himself to talk to her. To try to apologize. She held up her hand, letting him know it wasn't necessary anymore. She had seen the work he'd done in the wizarding community over the last several years. "Just by looking at you, I know you're not the same man," she told him. She said she was sorry to hear of Narcissa's passing, and hoped he and Draco were all right. 

The next week, he approached her and tried to keep things lighter. She was sitting on a leather couch when he sat across from her, a club soda in his hand, a straw to play with while he avoided her gaze, and asked her if she had a Dom. She shook her head. "I'm still looking for the right fit," she said dreamily. "I want to serve, but my submission is a gift. A lot of these men seem to think it is their right." 

He knew what she meant. He longed to be worthy of such a gift from her, but he knew she could never see him that way after living as a prisoner in his home. It was a miracle she was speaking to him at all. 

After several more months in which he watched her play with various new and old Doms in the dungeon, still not finding whatever she was looking for, he approached her again. His mouth was dry, but he tried to stand tall and confident. 

"Hello, Lucius," she said airily as he sat next to her on the couch. She was wearing barely enough to cover her, but she didn't seem self-conscious at all. 

"Miss Lovegood." 

She looked at him and her blue eyes pierced his. In their gaze he saw that the dreamy attitude she was known for didn't reach her eyes; they were stormy, earthy, solid. Her head might appear in the clouds, but she was searching him for...something concrete. 

"Have you found someone worthy yet?" he asked, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. 

She grinned knowingly. "Have you found the courage to ask me what you truly want to know?" 

His face drained of color. 

"I've been waiting as well," she continued. "But I won't push." 

His mouth was dry, but he managed to ask, "Why not? If you know what I...what I'd like for...us to be?" 

"You shouldn't push someone to take your gift. It's better received when it's something they want." 

"I want it," he said quickly. "I want you." 

She smiled, and it did reach her eyes. "I would like that very much." 

Their play was slow, trust needing to be built, many nights spent in the safety of the public dungeon before they made it back to either of their homes. Tears shed on both their parts for the lives they'd lived, the lives they could have had without the war, the pain, the loss, the people they'd never become and they ones they'd been saved from becoming through the destruction of everything around them. No matter how long Lucius loved her, and he did love her, he felt that it was the most confusing paradox of his life that he should only get to have her because so many others died. He shouldn't be rewarded, he thought. He should be punished. 

Luna helped him on the worst nights. For the first several years, she held him as his soul was rent in two with the anguish of atonement; penance demanded a price, and on his worst days she gave him everything. It was a gift, she reminded him. She wanted him to have her. She wanted to serve him. She took pleasure in it. 

And on the nights when the nightmares took too much from her and she was gasping for breath from crying so violently, he helped calm her. He soothed her and gave her order and structure and safety. He would let no harm come to her ever again because she was his and he treasured her. 

They healed together, and three years later, he presented her with a collar. The sigh of relief that swept through her body carried out the last of any pain, any doubt, anything but pure trust and love. When she was collared, when she was his, she felt safe. She knew he loved her exactly as she was, with her head in the clouds and her belief in the unknown never wavering. And he knew she needed something to bring her back down to earth, to keep her centered, to make her safe. 

The silver collar sat featherlight on her neck, the key around his own on a chain. She gave him submission and he gave her devotion. They belonged to each other, in the end. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Coming Untouched 

Hermione's breath tickled his ear, the silk scarves tight around his wrists and ankles where they held him bound to the chair, soft shag carpet cushioning his bare feet. 

Despite the frost outside, he was sweating, and it had nothing to do with the fire roaring in the grate of their Head Dorms. 

"You look so pretty sitting for me there, Draco."

Her voice was the only stimulation she would give him. She was going to torture him with her dulcet tones until he was begging her for release. 

She circled him, coming to rest in front of the chair. Leaning forward so her hands rested against the backrest on either side of his head, her breasts were in perfect view, pushed together enticingly in the green and silver lace lingerie. He wanted to reach out and take them in his hand and push the cups down until he could suck on her perfect nipples. 

He moaned, ready to ask her to reconsider the scene for the night, to let him touch her instead, but the scarf between his teeth bound his words in the folds of the fabric instead. 

She chuckled lowly. "Already frustrated, and we've barely started." She looked down at his naked body, the frill of her skirt mere inches from his thighs. His cock was hard, lying against his body. "Someone is excited." 

He groaned around the gag. 

She stood up, looking very satisfied with herself. "Just because you're all tied up doesn't mean I can't have some fun. Do you want to watch me have fun, Draco?" 

He nodded enthusiastically, watching her hands trail up her sides until she was cupping her breasts. And then one hand moving down again, slowly against her stomach, until it was inside of the tiny skirt and she gasped. 

Fucking hell, I want her. 

She watched his eyes fix on her hand and smiled mischievously. "I'm so wet, Draco. You do this to me." She pulled her fingers out and held them up to show him they were covered in her slick. 

And put them in her mouth. 

Draco whined and pulled against the binds again, desperate to touch her, taste her, move. 

She released her fingers with a pop and smirked. 

She knelt in front of him, slowly sinking into the carpet. She leaned forward, her mouth open in a cute "o" as she leaned towards his cock—and then stopped. If she'd stuck her tongue out she could have reached him and his nerves were singing with anticipation. 

He watched her take a deep breath and her lip quirked up. She paused, holding it for just a moment, eyes on his, then pursed her lips together and blew. 

The air hitting his cock was almost, almost enough. She'd had him here for so long, she was right there. His hard length twitched and a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip. 

She grinned and leaned back on the rug so her legs were bent under her and the rest of her was on display. Draco's eyes traced up her perfect thighs to her center, her cunt naked underneath her skirt. 

She closed her eyes and began to trail her hands down her body again. From her chest to her ribs to the insides of her thighs, grabbing them until her nails left indents and she gasped. He knew she loved the pain, the pleasure. Knew she was imagining what he did to her. 

And then her finger dipped into her folds and pushed inside her core and the pre-cum leaked down Draco's shaft, the air cooling it and providing more sensation that was almost, almost enough. 

He watched her fuck herself on the carpet, curls splayed around her head, firelight dancing off her tanned skin. 

She used her other hand to tweak her nipple through the lace and Draco thought he was going to start drooling around the scarf in his mouth. He wanted to take that nipple between his teeth and bite her until she begged him to fuck her like he meant it. 

His cock was throbbing. 

She opened her eyes and locked her gaze with his. "Do you want it, Draco?" He nodded. "How much are you willing to give for it?" 

He narrowed his eyes. Bad form, Granger. Taking advantage of a man at his weakest moment. 

She laughed, the mental link between them stronger since they'd finally accepted that the twin marks that appeared on their wrists at the beginning of their eighth year truly meant something. 

"Is my good boy getting frustrated?" she asked in a falsely sweet voice. "Perhaps I should go finish this in my room." 

She made to move and he mentally shouted No don't! Please. I'll be good. 

Her eyes darkened and she sat up, kneeling in front of him again. "Good." 

She performed a wordless spell and smirked, her eyes flicking between his cock and his face. 

"Because good boys get rewarded." 

She moved her hand in a stroking motion through the air and Draco gasped. He felt it. As if every inch of her palm were pressed against his shaft, dragging his skin up and down, twisting at the top to swipe the pre-cum before bringing it to her mouth. 

She moved faster and faster, her other hand diving back into her skirt. 

Their moans grew louder and louder and he looked at her right as he realized there was no turning back. Her eyes widened and she sped up to match him. He threw his head back, eyes still on hers as he came all over his stomach, Hermione's screams, his name, music in his ringing ears. 

They both panted, their breathing returning to normal, and she rested her head and arms on his thigh. She felt warm and right against him. 

He nudged her a bit until she looked up and he gestured with his chin. She wandlessly undid the tie of the gag and he spit out the scarf. 

"Fucking hell, Granger. I thought I was going to die of need there." 

She patted him on the leg, still smiling in bliss. "You did very well." 

"Thank you." 

She giggled, and after a few more minutes untied him so they could move to the sofa in front of the fire. 

She snuggled up next to him, pulling his quidditch jersey on over her skimpy lingerie as he dragged a blanket over them both. 

He kissed the top of her head and she kissed his chest, drawing lazy patterns on his stomach through the results of his orgasm. 

"Careful, Granger. You'll turn a bloke on again." 

"Why, because I like playing with your cum?" 

He groaned, his cock twitching involuntarily. "Yes." 

She shrugged, smiling. "I can handle that." 

He chuckled, pulling her closer into his side and they sat there, content, until it was time to retire to their respective Head Dorms. But of course, they just went into his together instead. Nothing could keep them apart now. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Masturbation 

Hermione hears soft pants coming through the door. She’s pretty sure Harry didn’t hear her knock. 

“Harry?” she calls again. 

She hears something indistinct on the other side, but it sounds like “come in.” She cracks open the door and peaks in, only to find Harry kneeling on the bed with his cock in his hand and shock on his face as she quickly turns and shuts the door again. 

“Sorry!” she calls through the wood. “Sorry, sorry I thought you said to come in.” 

She stands rooted to the spot, unsure of where to go from there. She can’t go back in but her feet won’t move her away either. And she doesn’t even want to think about the fact that Harry’s cock in his hand was the hottest fucking thing she’d seen in her two year dry spell. 

She deliberates for so long that the door opens softly behind her. 

“I said ‘coming.’ As in, ‘I’m coming, to answer the door.’” 

So many meanings to so few words, she muses as she gazes pointedly at the ceiling. “Right, um, Kreacher made dinner. He’s feeling charitable today I think. I just…thought I’d come get you to, ah, eat.” 

“Hermione,” he whispers softly. “It’s all right. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ll ward the door next time.” 

She can’t find the words to express that she’s not uncomfortable having seen him touching his cock…just uncomfortable with how wet her knickers are at that moment. 

She takes a deep breath and faces him. He looks worried and she realizes she needs to confess. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Harry. I…I liked it.” 

His mouth hangs open and she makes a quick dash down the stairs before he has time to respond, before she has time to realize that she’s just admitted to liking seeing him wank in the middle of the day, before he can tell her that it was her name on his lips. 

But there’ll be plenty of time to talk one of these days, perhaps on the weekend, or before they pop over to their friends’ for lunch, or even just between rushing to both get showered in the morning before heading off to work. There would be time. 

After all, roommates were always bumping into one another at the strangest times. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Impact Play 

The sting of the crop hit her clit for the seventh time in a row and Hermione finally cried out. 

"Not feeling like such a brat now, are we?" her Dominant said, relishing breaking her in such a perfect way. "Are we?" he asked again, winding up for another slap of the crop. 

"No, Sir!" she said quickly, trying to close her legs together, but they were bound in place to the bondage chair, her perfect cunt exposed to him to tease, treat, torture as he pleased. 

Severus dragged the crop up the inside of her thigh, pushing the leather end between her folds, drenching it in her fluids. He dragged it higher, settling on her clit and pressing into her in small circles. 

"Now, Miss Granger, do you think you will remember the correct response the next time I tell you to get down on your knees, or do you need further reinforcement?" he asked, a sharp, quick, smaller sting of the crop against her thigh. 

She breathed heavily, turned on beyond her wildest dreams, dripping arousal onto the wooden floor, her core clenching against nothing. She knew the answer, she knew how to be obedient. 

But she'd spent so much of her life being a good girl without a second thought. 

She looked up at him, a glint in her eye, and said. "Yes, Sir." 

"And what is the correct answer?" 

She stared at him, waiting for him to see it in her eyes before she said it, watched him draw back the crop as he bit his lip, turned on even by her defiance. 

"Make me." 

And the crop came down on her clit seven more times until she was coming so hard her screams made her voice raspy. 

He grabbed the back of her hair and tilted her head up to him as he pulled his cock from his trousers and lined it up against her cheek, hard and ready. 

"Oh little girl, it looks like we have more training to do." 

Good, she thought, opening her mouth, ready for him. She would take this punishment any day, even if in the end she always submitted to his pleasure, his power, his will. An instrument of sensation under his hands, clay he would mold into his perfect little submissive. 

Who just couldn't quite seem to shake the edge that made her a complete and total brat. 

It was just more fun that way. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Age Difference 

Theo played with Lyra's curls as she leaned against him on the picnic blanket, the Irish seaside a perfect diversion from Wiltshire. They watched the push and pull of the ocean on the shore. That ancient dynamic had existed forever, creating life and inspiring lovers. What did it matter which had appeared first, which had found the other, which had initiated that infinite loop? Souls and the ocean were the same that way—eternal forces existing outside of time. 

She was his ocean and he her shore; she refined his edges and he was always where she came to rest. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: prostate play 

Hermione sat on the bed nervously. Eighth year had come and gone and with it any remaining animosity between Draco and herself.

They had been dating for almost six months now, and as much as Hermione desperately wanted Draco in her bed in the small side room at Grimmauld Place pleasing her the way he did every night, she had something special planned that evening. Something Draco had told her he wanted in the heat of frenzied kisses during one of their lovemaking sessions. 

She knew nothing about it, had never actually heard of it, but that didn’t stop her. She immediately sought out every book in the library on the topic. And tonight she reviewed what she'd learned from her research again, making sure she knew the spell backwards and forwards. She wanted him to be comfortable. 

He stepped through the floo at 7 o'clock on the dot. 

"Granger," he said, coming towards her for a kiss. 

She kissed him back, pulling him down onto the bed with her. 

"I want to try something," she whispered in his ear as his hands undid his belt buckle. 

"What does my little witch want?" 

Hermione's core clenched, so turned on by his words she nearly forgot her plan for the evening. 

"I want to make you feel good, Draco..." 

"You always make me feel good, Hermi—" 

Her hand had grabbed his arse and his eyes went wide. 

"Oh." He searched her face for any hint of nervousness. "Are you sure?" 

She was. 

They kissed and disrobed until they were lying together naked in her bed. 

She’d done some research of course but first hand experience was always preferable. She traced the planes of Draco’s chest and abs and hips until her hand was resting on his arse. 

"You'll tell me if you don't like it?" she asked, worry creasing her brow. 

"Of course. Likewise." He swallowed hard and she leaned in to kiss his Adam's apple. 

She kept kissing his jaw as he rolled underneath her and she pressed her lips further and further down his body until she was kneeling between his legs. 

She settled on her heels, gently running her fingers up and down his thighs. He looked more vulnerable than he ever had, but she saw trust in his eyes. 

Hermione murmured the lubrication spell she had practiced—more complicated than the usual one they used, it ensured that it wouldn't need reapplication until they were done. He gasped at the sensation and she continued to trace his thighs reassuringly. She slipped one hand between them, resting her finger against the puckered skin at the entrance. 

Draco sucked air through his teeth. 

"All right?" she asked. 

He nodded. "Just...feels weird." 

"Do you want to stop?" 

He shook his head. "Maybe just...warm up to it?" 

She moved her fingers up a few inches, teasing the skin between his bollocks and his arse as her other hand came up to grasp his cock. She moved her small hand up and down the way he liked, teasing the head, building his need for her, and then pressed on the soft skin below in a circular motion. 

"Fuck," he said, throwing his head back. 

"More?" 

"Please." 

Hermione grinned. Draco losing control was such a beautiful thing. 

She moved one finger back to his arse and slowly pressed against the hole. She watched his face, her other hand never leaving his cock as she encouraged his body to relax under her touch. Slowly she pushed forward and her finger slipped in further. 

Her eyes were locked on his as she crooked her finger up towards the front of his body, reaching to gently massage the gland she would find there, still stroking his length with her other hand. His eyes went wide, mouth open in surprise and awe and pleasure. 

“Does it feel good?” she whispered. 

Draco nodded repeatedly, pale blond fringe falling against his forehead. 

“Are you going to come for me baby?” she teased in a low voice. 

He groaned underneath her, pushing his head back against the pillow. “Fuck.” 

Encouraged by his response, she took it further. “Do you want me to milk your cock, Draco? You want to give me all that pretty cum until there’s nothing left?” She pressed against his prostate slightly faster. “You want to be my good boy?” 

Draco’s hands flew to his face covering it in embarrassment, but the soft yes he moaned belied his arousal. Hermione had never felt more powerful, or more in love with him. 

“Let me make you feel good,” she begged. “I want it. I want you.” Her hands moved faster, her voice gruff. “Give it to me.” 

Draco’s body went rigid as he came with a stuttering cry, a chorus of fuck and her name on his lips. 

She slowed her ministrations and vanished the sticky lube from her hands and his thighs and the sheet, crawling up his body to lie her head on his chest, not caring at all that she’d trapped his cum between their torsos. 

His hands wrapped around her and she brought her face to his, confident he had enjoyed his surprised, and excited for the next time. 

Chapter Text

Hermione rolled her hips. The way Draco felt underneath her, inside of her, the look on his face, she held all the power. 

She knew he'd been curious about this too. Knew it since the day she'd come home to find him looking through her dress rack, knew it in the way he fingered her skirts in more than just objective appreciation. 

She knew he wanted to know. 

Sure, there were potions they could have used, but that seemed too easy. Part of the allure was in what they were not. In what they could convince themselves was true, together, out of pure, sheer mental willpower, lost in pleasure. 

"Do you feel me, Draco?" Her voice slipped over his skin like the satin babydoll he was wearing. She slid down on his cock again, gripping it with her walls. "Do you feel me inside you?" 

He hissed a sound of pleasure, his hands bound behind him, underneath his body. She leaned over him, still moving her hips in a way reminiscent of his movements when he was on top of her. She pushed harder at the bottom of her thrust, and if she let herself give into it, she could almost believe it was she who was pushing into him. That when she looked down to see them joined, he was impaled on her, at her mercy. She rolled her pelvis in a circular motion, and though she felt him stretching her, she told herself that his sounds were the way she made room inside him. 

"Does it feel good to have me stretch you, Draco?" He whimpered and she continued, running her hands up his chest. "Do you like how it feels when I fill you up?" 

His breaths were coming in quicker pants now, and she leaned next to his ear, going for the gold. Barely above a whisper, she licked the shell of his ear before panting, "Your pussy feels so good, I want to come inside you." 

That was all it took. A sheen of sweat broke out over him as his orgasm crashed through and he twitched down low, their bodies reaching a crest together. Hermione had never felt more powerful than she did imagining that she really was filling him with her seed, that she could, for once, give him the same gift he gave her every day. 

As they lay wrapped up in each other after and her finger traced the strap of his lingerie, he kissed her, toying with her tongue the way she had with his body. Rolling her onto her back and laying on top of her—while supporting his own weight—the way she did after their lovemaking, his face pressed to her chest. 

"Thank you," he whispered. 

She stroked his back with the lightest touches and smiled. "Anytime." 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: bites and bruises 

His whole life, Theo had been keeping secrets. Staying just neutral enough to avoid being drawn into skirmishes, walking just far enough behind Draco to avoid being seen as one of his friends, being just good enough at school for the Dark Lord not to want to make a special example of him. 

Theo's entire life felt like he'd been keeping secrets and staying out of the limelight. He'd accepted it, known it had kept him safe, alive. It became second nature. 

But this secret was nearly killing him. 

Hermione's lips sucked a bruise on the pulse point beneath his jaw, bite marks he'd later glamour trailing down his neck, and his hands wove into her hair, curls wrapping like tendrils around his fingers. 

"Hermione..." he breathed. 

"Shhh," she said against his skin. "They'll hear us." 

He laughed out loud at that one; no one would hear them in the midst of the game, not with them tucked far beneath the bleachers and the faint shimmer of a Notice-Me-Not around the perimeter. 

She pulled back at the sound, eyebrows drawing together and hands stalling on his belt. "What?" 

He looked at her with barely concealed irritation. "Aren't you tired of this?" 

"Of what?" 

"This," he gestured around them. "Hiding. Hiding us." He hoped that his voice hadn't broken loud enough for her to hear it. 

But the wince in her eyes said otherwise. "Theo..." 

It smarted, on the inside. She didn't even have to say it. He wasn't good enough for her, would always be just invisible enough to the wizarding world to stay out of trouble. But next to the Golden Girl? His sins would be on display. 

He grasped her hands and lowered them away from him, looking at the grass by their feet. Hoping the water blurring his vision wasn't visible from where she stood. "I can't do this anymore." 

"What?" It was small, quiet, pained. "Theo, please." 

"I love you, Hermione," he said, and with that he did look up at her, a watery smile pulling up one side of his mouth. "But I can't be your secret anymore. I don't want to go my whole life feeling like I'm not allowed to want you, to claim you, to—to love you. Openly." He laughed a sad sound as he realized belatedly that he was truly saying these things he'd thought in his head late at night. He was saying them and he couldn't take it back. "You deserve the world, and you can have it. Life will give you anything you want because you're Hermione Granger and you're beautiful and brave and brilliant." He paused, squaring his shoulders, as he said—more for his benefit than hers, "But I have to live in this world too. And I can't do it in secret anymore." 

He watched her face break for only a moment before he turned and walked as fast as he could away from her. Away from the shadows, and into the light. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: lingerie 

Harry watched her as she slipped out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, one arm crossed in front of her body and chin tucked down. Something about it didn't make sense. She was, without doubt, the most stunning witch he had ever seen, and the red lingerie he had purchased her for Christmas only added to her beauty. But she looked shy, ashamed even. It didn't make sense. 

"Hermione, what's wrong?" 

She tucked one ankle behind her other leg. "I just...I've never worn anything like this before. It's...it's pretty. I feel silly." 

Harry frowned. "Why do you feel silly?" He crawled up onto his knees on the bed, holding out his arms to call her towards him. She stepped into the space in front of his chest easily. "You look beautiful." 

She blushed, ducking her head to the side and avoiding his green eyes. "It shows off all the scars. I can't glamour most of them. So I just never bothered to dress up." 

"Your scars mean you lived, Hermione. Your scars are your victories." 

She looked up at him then, watery eyes blinking quickly. "Oh Harry." 

She kissed him and his hands skirted over the lace that ran up her ribs, adorning the girl he'd met so long ago, survived so much with, fallen head over heels for. 

As she settled on top of him, her honey curls falling against the bright red cups against her chest, a smile just for him on her lips, he thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Sex Tape 

Harry browsed the aisle of the tiny little video store in the middle of Nowhere, Maine. It was a crisp fall evening, and he was looking forward to a quiet night in with a hot toddy, a hot video, and his hot boyfr— 

"Did you find one yet?" he heard Theo call across the other side of the wall of titles. 

"No, nothing quite right," Harry said. He pulled one and then another off the shelf, but despite the R ratings, they were a bit too...tame. 

Theo's head appeared around the end of the aisle, and he beckoned his boyfriend forward, a glint of mischief in his eye and one side of his mouth pulled into a smirk. "I think there's a room in the back. Come on." 

Pushing his hair down over his scar—a habit he would never break—Harry made his way cautiously towards the back of the store. There was indeed a small room, sectioned off with a red curtain. 

"Theo, it'll be obvious." He glanced at the store owners at the front. 

"Harry, we're already fucking. They won't care what we watch." 

Ducking behind the curtain with a quick glance to the owners staring them down from the register, Harry found himself in a tiny little room lined with rows and rows of what appeared to be homemade video tapes. 

Theo looked like a kid in Honeyduke's. Harry just blushed, hands in his back pockets as he stood as far off to the side as he could in the makeshift room. 

"This one looks good," the Slytherin said. He held a tape with a group of ten men on the front. "Or this one," he said, pointing to one that appeared to be a reverse harem. "Or we can stick with the lesbian orgies tonight if you're feeling in the mood." 

Harry was glad the room was dark so Theo wouldn't see his reddening cheeks. He enjoyed that both of them were attracted to men and women (and, honestly, plenty of folks that didn't fall in either of those categories), but he was nervous nonetheless. 

And more than a little aroused. 

"I think we should start with something a little simpler," he said, picking up a tape with elegant handwriting on the label—really, it looked more like they thought it would end up in a library than a video store's seedy back room. 

The Emerald Prince & the Golden Princess 

Theo looked over Harry's shoulder at the title and snorted. "Bit full of themselves, don't you think?" 

"Yeah," Harry agreed automatically. He was distracted by the handwriting. There was something familiar about it. 

He shook his head. "Yeah, but, it could be fun. Bit more romantic maybe, but still, if it fits back here, must be pretty risky too." 

"Great." Theo leaned in and kissed him soundly, sending blood rushing lower in Harry's body until he started to feel a bit faint. Theo pulled away, kissing him gently on the cheek, and held open the curtain. "Your chariot awaits." 

Harry laughed and took Theo's other hand, pulling him out into the store so they could take their spoils home. 

--- 

Harry loved the way Theo kissed. He loved the way he kissed his mouth, pulling his lip between his teeth. He loved the way he kissed his neck, leaving little love bites down the column so everyone at work would know. 

Loved the way he kissed his cock. 

So when Theo offered to take Harry in his mouth while the video started, just to ease his nerves, Harry was admittedly distracted. Throwing his head back before the titles even finished rolling, he reveled in the feel of Theo's tongue on the underside of his cock. His hands fisted Theo's hair and he opened his eyes to look at the marvelous sight in front of him. 

And his eyes caught a glimpse of the screen. 

No, it can't be. 

And then the woman moaned. And even though she hadn't said a single word, Harry was familiar with that voice. That sound. That witch. 

"Merlin—Theo—" 

Theo sucked harder and faster, no doubt thinking Harry was getting closer, at a loss for words from the pure pleasure. 

Until the man grunted on the screen, and Theo froze. 

Harry knew. He knew Theo recognized that sound.

There weren't many secrets between roommates, not for either one of them. 

"They fucking didn't," he said. 

Harry arched an eyebrow. "They definitely fucking did." 

He grinned, and Theo rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Potter." 

"Oh it's Potter again now is it? Malfoy doesn't even have to be physically present in my house and we're back to Potter?" 

"I can't look." Theo trained his eyes on Harry's crotch, but Harry's eyes locked with the tv screen. 

"I can." 

Theo looked perplexed. "They're our mates! You want to see Draco and Granger fucking?" 

Harry shrugged. "You've never felt...curious? I know you think they're both attractive." 

"You do too," Theo said accusingly. 

Harry held his hands up in supplication. "Never said I didn't." 

Theo bit his lip—Harry thought he actually looked a lot like Hermione when he did that. "All right." He slid up onto the couch next to Harry, the Gryffindor's cock still wrapped in his hand. 

Harry watched Theo as his best friend and his boyfriend's best friend went at it in what was clearly Draco's flat. It had a homemade quality to it that could only appear less homemade with the use of magic. 

Draco was licking Hermione; Harry reached over to Theo's trousers, palming him. 

Draco slid two fingers inside the witch; Harry unzipped Theo's jeans and reached into his boxers, stroking. Always stroking. 

Draco lifted Hermione's waist and slid into her; Harry popped Theo's cock out from the boxers and stroked the weeping tip. 

Theo was doing the same, though a bit more distracted by the presence of two magical people he found attractive on the screen. 

Harry stroked him, watching his face as the man grew harder in his hand. 

When Hermione started to come for the first time, Harry turned his body, laying to take Theo into his mouth. 

"Oh fuck," the other man breathed. "Harry..." 

Harry smiled. With his teeth still grazing the edge of the head, he teased, "Oh it's Harry again is it?" 

"It's always Harry when my cock is in your mouth," Theo said in a gravelly voice, hands twisting in Harry's hair. 

Harry smiled and swallowed as much of the other man's length as he could, timing the bobbing of his head with Draco's thrusts on the screen—he could tell how fast or slow the blond was going by the way Hermione's moans punctuated the air. Within minutes, Theo was trembling with need, his voice raspy as he looked wide-eyed into his lover's gaze. 

"Harry—" 

Harry sucked harder, rolling his tongue around Theo the way he knew he liked with one fist on around the base of his boyfriend's cock and the other gripping his hip, and the man beneath his palms exploded. 

"Fuck, Harry." Theo's arched against the pleasure as he found his release. 

Panting as his breath slowed again, he pulled Harry upwards to kiss him. 

Draco growled as he found his own climax on screen and the two men looked over to watch.

Theo chuckled in post-orgasmic bliss. "We should send them a thank you card." 

Harry snorted. "I don't think we need to make Draco's head any bigger." 

"I couldn't really see it from here honestly. Was it decent sized?" 

"You Slytherins are harsh, aren't you?" Harry joked. 

Theo smacked him playfully on the chest. "Honestly, I think Granger would be the more embarrassed of the two. I've seen Draco's arse plenty of times." 

"After what we just saw, I'm not sure Hermione would be embarrassed by anything. Turned on, maybe." 

Theo rolled his head towards Harry with a coy grin, slipping his hand down to his boyfriend's cock. "We could always ask them over and find out." 

Harry bit his lip, excitement rushing through him again. "We could." 

"Tomorrow?" Theo said, standing and taking Harry's hand as he pulled him through to the bedroom. 

Harry smiled. "Tomorrow." 

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Edging 

Hermione walked into the halls she hadn’t seen in five years with her hands tucked safely in her peacoat, collar protecting her from the wind that the Scottish Highlands were known for in the autumn months. 

She had never expected to be back for this reason. 

Hoping not to run into the Headmistress, she kept her path direct, taking the first staircase down to the dungeons. A shiver ran up her spine—anticipation. 

Steeling herself, she knocked on the dungeon door she never would have dared to enter before. 

It opened, and Severus Snape was standing on the other side. In a relaxed black shirt and dark trousers, hair clearly still drying from the shower, he was a much more attractive picture than she remembered. 

She swallowed hard. “Hello, Professor.” 

A smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth. “Severus. Please, Miss Granger.” 

She smiled nervously, but excitement was winning out and she couldn’t help the toothy grin that was creeping onto her face. Not for the first time, she was glad she had shrunk her teeth all those years ago. Who knew what a confident smile would lead to? 

“Come in,” he said in sultry tones, stepping aside as he gestured for her to enter. 

She did, and immediately jumped with surprise. 

“Luna!” 

The blonde Ravenclaw looked up at Hermione with a dreamy expression. 

“Hermione, how lovely to see you.” 

Her brain was racing to catch up with what was going on. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Hermione said, still trying to piece it together. “Shall I come back later?” She looked at Severus. 

He grinned jovially, a teasing lilt to his words. “No, I believe you and Miss Lovegood are here for the same reason.” 

Hermione looked back at Luna and this time her eyes took in the simple dainty collar around her neck. It was just a silver chain with a triskelion charm engraved with a DM in the center. Luna's hand went to her neck, touching it lovingly at at Hermione’s look. 

“Draco,” she said simply as if that explained everything. 

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. She hadn’t realized that Luna and Malfoy were an item. She tried not to think too hard about how closely the Sacred Twenty-Eight were related. 

“That’s lovely,” Hermione admitted. She felt a small twinge of jealousy at seeing Luna's collar; what she wouldn’t give to have a Dominant she felt so strongly connected to. It was tantamount to marriage, she had learned in the last few years.

She was still learning, just as she had learned that after so many hours a day being in charge, she liked to relinquish control. It may have surprised others that Hermione was a natural born submissive, but in the end it made her feel safe, happy, relaxed. And to hell with anyone who judged her for it. 

Suddenly aware that Severus was watching their interaction, she turned to him, eyebrows still raised as her face expressed This was quite the surprise. 

“If it’s amenable to you, I should like to work with you both together this evening.” 

Hermione’s heart raced and heat pooled in her abdomen. “That is acceptable to me,” she said in a tight voice, cheeks already flushing. 

“I’d be happy to,” Luna added. 

“Wonderful.” He looked between the two witches. “Let’s begin.” 

---  

Hermione never expected to find herself lying naked on Severus Shape’s bed next to an equally naked Luna. She certainly never expected to do so while he stood in front of both witches, teasing their cunts. Hermione and Luna lay in similar positions, their feet planted on the bed and their arms bound above them as their former Potions teacher slipped his fingers in and out of them in sync. 

Severus teased both girls equally, stroking their inner walls, finding the spongy tissue along one side and pressing firmly; he reveled in the way both witches gushed arousal into his palms as he did so. 

"Good girl," he said to both of them. "Now, you both know why you're here today, don't you?" 

Hermione nodded, panting with pleasure as he drove her closer to the peak. Luna murmured, "Yes, Sir," in breathy tones. 

"I would like to hear you say it." 

Neither girl could speak, for he was trailing along their ridges so precisely they were seconds away from exploding. 

"Miss Granger? Your hands are already raised above your head. Surely you must know the answer." 

Hermione blushed at that, but looked him in the eye. "I asked you to teach me how to be a good submissive. To learn more specifically about...about..." It was hard to think while he was moving so torturously slowly inside her. 

"Yes?" 

"About denial. And control. And waiting as a form of pleasing my Dominant." 

"And do you have a Dominant, Miss Granger?" he asked, curiosity coloring his tone. 

She shook her head. "No, Sir." 

He made a small noncommittal noise and turned his attention to the other witch. "And you?" 

"Yes, Sir. Draco is my Dominant. I wear his collar. He trusts you to help me learn." 

"Well done, Miss Lovegood." And he fucked her harder with his finger, still somehow lazily stroking Hermione with the other hand. 

Luna looked as if she were about to fall apart when Severus suddenly pulled his fingers out of both witches. The blonde made an anguished cry, trying to close her knees together to relieve the pressure. Severus was between her legs in a second, holding them apart so she couldn't rub herself to orgasm. Hermione watched in awe as his face became the stern mask she was familiar with. 

"No, Miss Lovegood. You shall not come." He looked at Hermione. "You will both be learning the pains and pleasures of edging tonight." 

Luna was starting to breathe more slowly again, the crest passing without reaching it. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." 

"Good girl," he said, patting her cunt gently, and then all at once shoving two fingers back inside her and thrusting so quickly Hermione was sure Luna had no chance of holding back. But again just as soon as the girl's face turned red with impending orgasm and she started to arch her back, Severus pulled his fingers out of her and stepped away, leaving her whining. He bound both her ankles apart so she could not move and stood in front of Hermione. 

Hermione felt as if all breath had left her body. She couldn't admit it out loud, sure he would ridicule her for it, but she found the Potions Master incredibly attractive, so much so that she had hoped the night might end in him teaching her with his cock instead of just his fingers. But now she felt silly. That would never happen with Luna there. He was a teaching Dominant. He helped submissives who were trying to learn. He trained them, mentored them, but never took a sub of his own. 

At least, not that she was aware of. 

He stood between her legs, leaning over her body until his arms rested on either side of her head, his mouth by her ear. 

"Miss Granger," he murmured. 

Hermione felt a rush of wetness coat her thighs. 

"Do you want me to touch you?" 

"Yes, Sir," she breathed, arching her chest, hoping her breasts would press against him, that she would get some form of contact on her aching body. 

"Would you like to taste your friend?" 

Hermione's eyes flew open. "What?" 

Severus leaned back a bit to look her in the eye with a smug grin. "Well I only have two hands. One of which has been inside Miss Lovegood recently. Would you like to taste her?" He leaned closer again, his lips brushing her ear so it almost tickled. "Or perhaps would you like me to fuck you with the same fingers and mix your juices inside your pretty little pussy?" 

"Oh gods," Hermione moaned, feeling her cunt clench against nothing, dying to be full. 

Severus turned to Luna. "What do you think? Would you like Miss Granger to lick your juices from my hand, or shall I push them inside her?" 

Luna's eyes went wide; she was rarely afforded that much control, and liked it that way. Still, now and then it was appealing. "Lick." 

Severus turned back to the curly brunette underneath him. "What do you say, Miss Granger? Are you brave enough to try a taste?" 

Hermione's mouth was parted, eyes blown wide with arousal. 

She nodded. 

Severus brought his hand to her mouth as his other hand went to her clit. He started teasing her again, lightly, his fingers barely brushing her nub. 

Hermione bravely took an exploratory lick of his fingers and found the taste tangy and musky, but...good. She wanted more. 

She opened her mouth farther and she wrapped her lips around his fingers as he pushed the others into her dripping cunt. As he fucked both her mouth and her pussy, she moaned, feeling herself getting close again. 

Just as she was about to come, he withdrew his fingers, his body keeping her legs apart. 

"I think it's only fair that you share your friend's taste," he said nipping at her jaw. "But you've taken it all, greedy girl. I want to try." 

He kissed her, suddenly and soundly. Hermione did not expect to be so lucky to have her former professor's tongue inside her mouth, and the fact that he was licking Luna's arousal from her lips nearly sent her over the edge. 

"Please," she said against his lips, "I'm going to come." 

He stopped immediately, pulling back, but she could see his pupils were wide too. "Good girl. Good girl for saying so and not coming without permission." 

He stood and Hermione felt cold in the absence of his heat. 

"Miss Lovegood, you've been waiting so patiently. I think you deserve a reward, don't you agree, Hermione?" 

Hermione's eyes snapped up to meet his—he'd never used her first name before. She nodded her head. 

"What do you think would bring your Dominant greatest pleasure?" he asked the blonde witch. 

Hermione could see the conflict on Luna's face. She knew the girl wanted to come but also there was something else there. 

"He would want me to come around his cock." 

"So he would. I think we should send you home a quivering little mess for him, don't you think?" 

Luna nodded, lip trembling as she prepared for more pleasure that led nowhere. 

Hermione watched as Severus brought her to the edge fives more times, each time stopping before she could finish. When her pussy lips were swollen and red and her thighs sticky with her own juices, he unbound her from the bed and got her a water and a snack for the road. 

"You've done very well, Miss Lovegood. Draco should be proud of you." 

"Thank you, Sir." Luna was still flushed, holding her snack in her hand as she stood in her coat, ready to get back to her wizard. "May I use the floo?" 

"Of course." 

"Bye, Hermione," Luna said, smiling and waving as she stepped into the fireplace. "I hope you get to come too." 

And then she was through. 

When Severus turned around, the fire in his gaze was different. It wasn't calm, it wasn't...instructive. 

It was primal. 

"Do you want to come...Hermione?" 

The way his voice slipped over her name, caressing its curves, made her nearly whimper. 

"Yes, Sir." 

He stepped closer. "And you don't have a Dominant, do you?" He leaned over her again on the bed. 

"No, Sir," she breathed, eyes meeting his. 

"What if I said that I wanted you. Would you like that, pet?" 

Hermione moaned, trying to pull him closer to her with her legs. One wandless spell later and they were both naked. 

Severus reached between them, running his finger through her folds to collect the fluids there before bringing his hand to his mouth. 

"Divine." 

"Please, Sir," she panted. 

"What do you want, pet?" 

"You. I want you." 

Without a moment more passing, he leaned in and kissed her, pushing her own taste into her mouth and slipping his fingers inside her channel once again. 

"Shall I bring you to the edge?" 

"Oh gods," she breathed. "Please, please let me come." 

His fingers moved faster and faster, stilling every time she got close. 

"If you were my submissive, I would want you to come around my cock. Would you like that, Hermione?" 

"Yes, Sir." Her vision was dotted with stars, head too light, all her energy pooled low in her body. 

He lined himself up and slid easily inside her. 

"Fuck, witch," he grunted, sliding in and out. 

Hermione had never felt such a perfect fit. Never dreamed she would get this moment with him. "Thank you, Sir." 

His eyes lit up at her gratitude. "My, you are a good little one aren't you? Why are you not collared, Hermione?" He fingered her neck gently, tracing where it would go. 

"I haven't," she paused, not sure how honest to be. "I haven't met anyone I wanted to collar me." Besides you. Say it Hermione, what's the worst that could happen? "Besides you." 

His eyes went wide and he pulled her up further onto the bed so he could lie atop her with her legs underneath him. She knew it made her even tighter. 

"I never sleep with anyone I train, Miss Granger. But you are...a temptress. So lovely," he said, kissing her again. 

"Thank you, Sir." Hermione was trying not to come without permission but it was getting harder as her passage slicked even more. "Sir, I, I'm going to—" 

He pulled out of her, denying her once more. With a smug grin at the look on her face, he thrust back in, as deep as he could go, and looked her in the eye. 

"Come." 

She exploded around him, pleasure radiating from her center out through her limbs as her vision went white. 

After a few moments, she returned to awareness and he was kissing her gently. 

"Well done." 

She noticed he was still hard inside her; he hadn't come. 

"Your turn?" she asked. 

He smirked. "I find edging prolongs the pleasure." He thrust into her again at her answering smile. "I have all night." 

Chapter Text

Closer. 

Closer. 

I need you closer. Please. 

Draco's lips met hers as she walked backwards into her flat. 

Desperate. 

Needy. 

Longing. 

Kisses down her jaw as she pulled her shirt over her head. 

His hands on his belt, trousers pulled off over ankles as they fell into her bed. 

Hermione had never needed another person so much. 

"Missed you, missed this." His words were kisses themselves along her skin. 

They sunk through her and into her soul, warming her. Fueling the heat in her belly. 

Skin on skin, they tumbled into her sheets. Dark night surrounding them and shrouding their affection in the safety of desire. 

Unspoken words echoing loudly in the thick, summer air. 

Draco looked into her eyes as he moved inside her. As if it had been forever since the last time they were together.

As if it might be the very last time they were together. 

"Please"—she kissed his cheek—"please, Draco." 

Grey eyes locked on hers as the feel of him, the feel of her, the feel of them together sparked a flame they'd never been able to extinguish no matter how hard they tried. 

He drove her closer to that edge— 

I need you. 

"Draco—" 

I missed you. 

"—please—" 

I love you. 

And there were no more words except for his name, gasped like a benediction, and he never looked away as he filled her, following her over the edge. 

As they lay there in the starlight that shone in through the windows—a gentle breeze pushing the gossamer curtain to and fro, his hand resting just above her center, he played gently with the coarse patch of curls. 

Hermione could still feel him there, relished getting to keep him close for as long as she could. Her cheek pressed to his shoulder, hand on his chest as she traced the faint scar lines, she sighed. 

There was nothing words could say that had not been said that night. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Tentacles 

Astoria was practicing for her NEWTs in the Room of Requirement. She loved to go there on the weekends when her classmates were off in Hogsmeade or else trying to suck each other's faces off. 

She blushed at the thought. Waving her wand to levitate a chair while she transfigured it mid-air into a kite, she admonished herself. Honestly, Astoria, it doesn't do to be judgmental...just because you—

No. It would be too much to admit, even to herself, that she was jealous. 

Astoria had always been a good girl. She listened to her mother and father, admired after her older sister, did well in school. She never, ever gave in to those...urges she heard Daphne talking to Lavender and Parvati about. Only young women who had no interest in becoming proper members of high wizarding society did such things with boys they were not betrothed to. 

At least that's what her mother told her. 

As Astoria flung herself onto the bed to rest, she had to admit that the thought filled her with more frustration than anything else. She had woken once or twice to find herself gasping after a dream in which some nameless, but always gorgeous, wizard had been kissing her and touching her under her clothes. She had even dipped her fingers between her legs and caught the wetness there, embarrassed and aroused. 

She sighed. She couldn't wait for the day when she could give that part of herself to someone she loved. Make no mistake—she did not feel like her mother did about such matters. While Mrs. Greengrass frequently made rude comments about Daphne's sexual liberty, Astoria thought whatever a witch chose for herself was fine. But Astoria wanted to wait. She wanted to be taken with passion, with fire, with love. 

That didn't mean she didn't have needs. 

Lying there on the bed, she slipped her fingers inside her skirt, into her knickers, and found the pearl at the top of her slit. She rubbed circles on it gently, imagining that her beloved was licking her. 

But she wanted more. Astoria frustratedly wished she had a fake cock to thrust inside herself, something that would stretch her and make her scream, but wouldn't be attached to a real wizard who might not care as much about her. 

She knew that such toys existed thanks in large part to Pansy offering to buy her one after watching her be the odd one out at the various holiday parties their families held. It was true, everyone else was coupled up. 

Astoria had no more thought that it would be nice to have something to slide down on, to practice, than the room provided one. 

Astoria sat bolt upright as a very realistic looking dildo appeared on the bedside table—that the room also provided. The table also held a lamp, a book (The Witches' Guide to Self-Pleasure), a bottle of honey-scented lube, and a small little plant with tendrils that hung down onto the tabletop. It seemed the room was trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible. 

Astoria reached for the dildo. She hadn't seen many cocks before‚ just whatever magazines Daphne had left lying around. It felt...heavier than she expected, and little veins running up it reminded her of the vines that grew on her family's trellises. She picked up the lube and sniffed it experimentally. It didn't smell synthetic at all, it just reminded her of a summer evening with treats and picnics. 

Suddenly giddy with anticipation, Astoria shimmied out of her knickers and lay on the bed, dripping some of the lube onto the fake cock head. She lined it up with her slit, giving an experimental thrust. 

The head slipped in easily, notching into the opening of her pussy. Already it was better than she could have predicted. She slid the dildo in further, stretching around something for the first time, and a frisson of pleasure shot through her. 

She was gushing her own fluid onto the synthetic cock, the mere thought of having something inside her—which was not what good girls did according to her mother—was taboo enough to have her clenching on it. She only wished she could make it move on its own, to really feel what it would be like with a wizard. 

An idea struck her. She carefully removed the dildo and stood it up on the bedside table again. Using one hand to continue to tease her pussy, she blinked a few times, focusing on the dildo as she lifted her wand and performed a wordless charm. At that moment, a mini-orgasm tore through her. Not enough to ruin the main event, just enough to remind her this was a good idea. Thankfully, she was good enough at charms to be able to come and cast at the same time. 

As Astoria blinked through the haze of pleasure, she realized her mistake. 

The spell hadn't hit the dildo. 

It had hit the plant. 

The tendrils were now moving of their own accord, and they seemed to be reaching for her. Astoria's eyes went wide as she watched them dancing through the air towards her. She backed up, tripping over the knickers she'd left on the floor, and she fell on her bum. 

The vines turned towards her as if they heard her fall. 

Were they getting larger? 

With eyes wide, she watched as they slithered through the air towards where she sat, dancing like seducers, stopping just in front of her face as they seemed to watch her. 

Astoria smiled nervously. "Hello." 

At once, the vines twisted in different directions, wrapping around her ankles while another two wrapped around her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the bed, weaving around the bedposts that had appeared—can they ask for things too?—and spreading her ankles apart. Two of the tendrils lifted the bottom of her skirt as if they were hands belonging to a wizard she'd offered a peek to. Only she hadn't said anything...she had just been trying to animate the fake cock so that it would fuck her on its own. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

The full implication of what was about to happen hit her and she started to thrash against the binds—one on each ankle, one binding her wrists above her. The vines stopped, and appeared to be looking at her...waiting. 

For what? 

There was no way...the couldn't be...waiting for—permission. 

Could they? 

Astoria wasn't sure...but she was suddenly sure she wouldn't entirely mind finding out. 

They had definitely grown in size. 

She stopped fighting against the organic ropes and took a deep breath. And nodded. 

At once, the vines flipped the bottom of her skirt up and traced down the insides of her thighs. Just as her future husband's fingers someday would. 

She would certainly have a lot to tell him. 

Before she could even carry that thought any further, she felt one tendril, one of the smaller ones, barely touching up and down her slit. Gods it felt good to be touched by something other than her own hand. She felt more moisture dripping from her core, and felt embarrassed that she couldn't shut her legs. But a part of her liked being on display, being touched, being teased. 

And it was definitely teasing her. Brushing gently across her clit, circling the little hole at her entrance, pressing just a touch against her hymen, teasing the thin skin this way and that... it took her a while to realize it was trying to enlarge the entrance. 

She gasped as she felt one of the larger vines brush against her core. She was so turned on, so prepared, she wasn't frightened. And when it slid inside her inch by fibrous inch, shaping her to it precisely, she couldn't help the groan that escaped her as she canted her hips to take it even deeper. 

Two more tendrils crawled up to her breasts, sliding in through the bottom of her shirt to access the soft flesh—Astoria never wore a bra. She liked the way her shirt felt against her nipples, and part of her loved the rebellious aspect of it. But at that moment, she loved the way the vines wrapped themselves around her nipples and tugged. 

She lie there, being penetrated and pulled at, her pussy slick with arousal as she prepared to come all over the last thing in the world she expected to be fucked by. 

She clenched her muscles, needing something, just a little bit more something, and then she felt it. 

The way the vine that had grown thick inside her walls pressed into her, right against her cervix, and the tapered end inserted itself just a little bit. 

She didn't know if it was biologically, anatomically, or even magically possible, but Astoria knew that the unintentional recipient of her charm was getting off on her too—it was going to come. And it was going to come as far inside her as it could. 

As soon as she felt a tendril press against her backside, against a hole even she had not explored herself, as soon as she felt it tease her there, she came screaming around the thick vine that had fucked her, that continued to fuck her through her orgasm, that came inside her body. 

As the plant withdrew, ropes of sticky sap clung to Astoria's thighs. She watched as the flora that had fucked her better than she ever could have done alone with the dildo transformed back to its regular size, still moving until a whispered finite incantatem put an end to the unique magic show. 

She sat up, still catching her breath as it returned to normal, and righted her clothes. She stood and the bed became a chair once more. Watched as the bedside table, and everything on it, disappeared with a pop. 

She fixed her hair as best she could and walked to the door, opening it to the halls. It must be time for lunch. 

With a last look back at the room, she smiled. "Thanks." 

And gently shut the door.