#Halloween shit with the besties | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 6 months

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Tease Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

The one where you and your best friend, Harry, are invited to a Haunted House.

But ghosts aren’t the only fun thing about this party.

(For my non-spooky besties, the house isn't actually haunted! Just old and abandoned! There are no jump scares💞)

Word Count: 9.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, Daddy kink, masturbation, creampie, slight breeding kink, fluff, subspace, Harry being a simp

“Holy…shit.”

The large mansion looms into view. A tall, skeletal structure that’s brightened by the soft glow of the full moon. Hidden behind tall pines and a collection of dancing shadows, it stands like a sentinel of forgotten secrets. Ivy drips from the rotting wood, and boards cover a majority of the windows. The once grand façade bearing the scars of time.

You can see a collection of breathtaking stained glass windows lining the top story of the house. You can’t exactly make out the artwork from this distance, but you know, undoubtedly, that they’re beautiful. Only imagining what those reflections might look like in the sunlight.

The car sneaks along the gravel driveway, the sound of rocks and crunching leaves following you every inch of the way. You feel your breath hitch as you glance over toward Harry, who returns your look with a cocked brow of his own.

He pulls up next to the only other car on the lot. Rather, the only other car for miles. From the passenger seat, you can see Charlie, Jackie, and Caleb all huddled around the hood, conversing in hushed voices, and waving at you both in greeting.

Harry shifts into park before leaning back in his seat to turn his attention to you. “Well?”

You suck in a quiet breath before nodding once. “It’s…spooky.”

“Mhm.”

“And…big.”

“Thanks, but I meant the house,” he replies cooly, and you can’t help but grin.

“Funny. Honestly, I don’t think this is what I was expecting.”

“No?” He considers this with a nod of his own. “I guess it’s more ugly than scary. Caleb said he used to come here all the time when he was a kid. His brother claimed it was haunted.”

“Ooo,” you tease, and Harry smirks. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He lifts a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t ever really think about it.”

“That’s fair.”

Now his expression twists into something more mischievous as he leans closer to you. “But…if any ghosts come out and try to steal you from me, I have no problem sending ‘em back to the afterlife.”

You laugh again as you playfully swat your hand across his arm before surging forward to kiss him. “You’re an idiot, baby.”

“Yeah. But m’your idiot.”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs.

With that, you both unbuckle your seatbelts and step out of the car, joining your friends just beside the front steps of the mansion.

“Well, well, well,” Charlie grins, nodding his chin at the two of you. “Can’t believe you actually showed. Thought Har-Bear wasn’t into Halloween.”

Harry offers another shrug; relaxed but amused. “I’m not. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you get the shit scared out of you.”

Charlie’s expression falls while the rest of you laugh. “Okay, funny. Hysterical. Caleb’s the one that pissed himself when he was here last.”

“I was ten, dipshit,” Caleb snorts. “And I didn’t piss myself, I just screamed a little.”

“Right,” Jackie teases, nudging him with her elbow. “Whatever you say, champ.”

Caleb’s eyes roll, but he’s smiling as the five of you begin to make your way up onto the porch. “You’ll see. It’s spooky.”

“I’m sure we will, bud,” Charlie replies, tossing him a wink. “And after you go running back to the car in tears, we’ll make sure to lock up for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

With a soft laugh, Harry looks over at you. “You scared, Bee?”

“Me? Scared?” you snort. “Never.”

“Good.” He tosses his arm around your shoulder and tugs you into his chest. “Nothing to be scared of while I’m here.”

The other two boys pretend to be annoyed while Jackie offers you both a cheeky grin. “You guys are sickeningly sweet.”

“Oh, we know,” Harry answers impishly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I mean, I do a majority of the heavy lifting. But Bee’s pretty cute, too, I suppose.”

“Hysterical,” you deadpan, using your elbow to shove him away as you all approach the front door.

Your little group slows to a stop, exchanging glances and deep breaths as Caleb slowly says, “…are you ready?”

The air is laced with anticipation and excitement, and the four of you nod before his hand outstretches for the door.

It opens with a shrill screech as a flock of birds fling from their spot on a nearby branch and take off into the ghostly night sky.

With a deep breath, Caleb leads you all into the house, head held high, and shoulders back. The mansion is dark and the floorboards creak beneath your sneakers. The air is musky and cobwebs drape from each corner of the doorframe.

Quicky, you all search for your cellphones and flashlights, flipping them on to illuminate the path before you. Revealing a bit more of the corridor as you make your way inside.

“Shit,” Charlie murmurs, eyes wide as his focus flicks from wall to wall. “All right, maybe you weren’t kidding.”

“Told you,” Caleb retorts, peeking his head into the first room. “It’s not exactly scary, but it is cool as hell.”

“No kidding,” Jackie chimes in while you nod. “How many rooms are there?”

“No idea. But there are at least three levels. Plus, the attic, but Zac and I could never figure out how to get up there.”

“I’ll find it,” Charlie declares confidently, and Harry shoots you a knowing smirk. “What? If anyone can, it’s me.”

“I’m sure,” Caleb huffs, slipping in to what looks to be the drawing room. “By all means, go ahead. Honestly, we can split up and check out the other rooms. There’s a lot of cool shit here.”

Charlie nods once, running the light from his phone down one of the walls. Examining the faded wallpaper and dust-covered picture frames.

With a cock of his brow, Harry leans closer, nudging his shoulder against yours. “What do you say? Wanna do some exploring?”

You grin eagerly, nodding as well. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll find the attic first.”

You catch Charlie’s frown out of the corner of your eye, but the five of you can’t help but laugh as Harry leads you toward the next hallway.

The group disperses, with Charlie and Jackie searching the kitchen, Caleb ascending the stairs to the second floor, and you and Harry beginning for some of the bedrooms.

The house is quiet. Eerily so, with only the sound of your footsteps to accompany you. And even with two flashlights, you can only see a portion of the narrow hallway at a time. From the wooden trim to the chipped paint.

You fall in line behind Harry’s taller frame, allowing him to guide you toward the furthest room as he strides with a confidence you envy. Unaffected by the sounds, and smells, and ghostly aurora.

“You all right back there, Bee?” he calls after a moment more of your silence. Seeming to catch your strained inhales and lack of commentary. “Still with me?”

“Yes,” you whisper, but it’s airy. As though your voice has been swept away by the hands of a ghost. “Just…trying not to trip.”

Even without seeing the full of his face, you can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, lovey, you know I’d catch you.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, lashes fluttering as you glance up toward the old chandelier dangling from the tall ceiling.

Suddenly, Harry stops, forcing you to catch yourself against him before he glances at you. “Hop on.”

Confused, you blink. “What?”

“Hop on,” he repeats, placing his cellphone between his teeth while crouching down. Allowing you access to his back in an invitation to climb up.

And once you finally understand, you can’t help but smile. Slipping your arms around his shoulders before hoisting yourself onto his body. Legs curling around his hips while his hands reach back to keep you sturdy.

Once you’re settled, you gently pull the phone from between his lips and aim the fluorescent gleam across the room. Providing him a bit more light to see as he straightens up.

“Thank you, baby,” he hums. “You all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Very. Just make sure to hold on, yeah?”

You grin a bit wider and tuck your chin over his shoulder. “Promise.”

With that, he begins down the hall, keeping his fingers tight around your ankles. “All right, baby dove, where do you wanna go first?”

Vaguely, you gesture toward the closest room. From the small sliver your light catches, you can see that it’s filled with large curtains and furniture draped in cloth. It looks…reminiscent. Calling to you and inviting you to step inside a lost era, a forgotten memory.

He carries you closer, and as he strides through the murky corridor, you use the height advantage to look around. Taking in the more subtle details of the old house.

The hand railing beside the staircase. The broken floor beneath you. The cracked light fixtures and dusty bookshelves.

You can’t imagine the life that was lived. The parties they threw, the elegance that sang from every corner, the memories that were created.

You wonder about the people who built it. Wonder what they were like, what made them leave. If they ever reminisce about the old house they used to call home.

“It’s beautiful,” you find yourself saying, exhaling the sentiment almost fondly.

Harry hums again, eyes trailing across the expanse of the carpet underneath his shoes. “Shame nobody ever bought it and fixed it up.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Maybe we should.”

He smiles at this, squeezing your legs a bit tighter. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. Wouldn’t it be fun? A little passion project?”

“Maybe. Don’t know what we’d do with all this space, though.”

You shrug. “Well, we’d have plenty of room to storm off if we got into a fight.”

He laughs. “Yeah?”

“And we’d have plenty of places for…you know, other things.”

“Other things,” he repeats knowingly, glancing back with a smirk. “I do love our other things.”

You snuggle closer. “And if we ever wanted to start a family…we’d have room for that, too.”

He’s quiet now, his tongue slowly sweeping across his bottom lip in thought. “D’you think about our family, Bee?”

“I do,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Sometimes. Not, like…right away, or anything. But…I just wonder, I guess. What you’d be like. What we’d be like.”

“Yeah? And how are we?”

“We’re good,” you tell him. “You’re the fun parent. Of course. And I’m the one that makes them do their homework and eat their veggies.”

He grins. “Of course.”

“And they have your hair. Lots of curls, very wild.”

“Mm.”

“And they love to sing. They aren’t good at it…but they love it.”

He laughs a bit louder this time, head shaking as he brushes his thumbs across the exposed skin of your ankles. “Sounds about right.”

“And we’re really happy,” you finish tenderly. “And we have two dogs, and one cat. And nothing changes between us. We’re still us, and we still love each other a lot, and we still go on tons of adventures and have really good, wild sex.”

He’s smiling so hard, you can see his dimples. “I wouldn’t want anything less.”

“Me, either.”

You fall silent as Harry finally brings you both into the large room, ducking beneath the frame to make sure you don’t hit your head. You kiss the side of his jaw gratefully before he sets you down with a gentle plop, allowing you both to straighten up and take a look around.

Sizable paintings hang from each wall. Encased behind gold, elegant frames that are layered with a light film of dust. Even still, the artwork is breathtaking. Portraits of what look to be great men and women. Soft brush strokes that are wildly vivid, despite the many years stuck in this dark room.

Harry takes his flashlight from you and aims it toward the green, velvet sofa in the middle of the vast space. Eyes wide as he studies it. “A lot of this stuff is in better shape than I thought it’d be.”

You make a noise of agreement as you gingerly run your fingers along the faded wallpaper. “I wonder what made them leave this all behind?”

“I don’t know. S’probably worth a fortune.”

“And it’s still here? Nobody came and looted it?”

He sports a rather charmed grin at your choice of wording. “Guess not. Kind of strange, honestly. City never reclaimed it, either.”

“Yeah…”

He glances over, a mischievous glint behind the soft green. “Maybe there’s a reason.”

“What?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Maybe…the ghosts won’t let it go.”

Finally understanding his joke, you roll your eyes with a snort before striding toward the giant bookshelf. “Ha, ha.”

“Maybe the owners died in the fifties,” he continues, dropping his voice to a lower drawl. Attempting to add a bit of mystique and suspicion. “Maybe they were murdered in cold blood. And they never found out who killed them, so they haunt the grounds of their old house. Until the day their killer dares to come back.”

You pretend to be intrigued, nodding along with faux fascination. “Uh-huh. Which makes us…what? Ghost bait?”

“Mmm…perhaps,” he murmurs, stalking toward you. “Perhaps that’s why Caleb really brought us here. To feed us to his ancestors. Appease the Halloween Gods.”

“Right.”

He closes the distance between you, angling the beam of his light up toward his face as dark shadows dance across his features. “Or maybe Caleb isn’t Caleb at all. Maybe…he’s a ghost—”

Suddenly, he jolts forward, making you gasp as you steel yourself from the sudden movement. Eyes wide and heart racing.

But once you realize he’s merely messing with you, you begin to glare. Scoffing, “God, you’re an ass.”

He drops his cellphone and beams at you. Much too smug with his victory. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I won’t resist drop kicking your ass out that window.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, peering down at you with a delicate look of adoration before he’s pressing his lips to yours. “Forgive me?”

You try to pout into the kiss, but he’s too good. Warm and soft and the definition of comfort. “Hm. Fine. Just this once.”

He offers one final peck before returning to his search. Hands sweeping along the grimy bookshelves, fingers trailing down the broken spines. He seems lost in thought, and you watch almost fondly as he reaches out for one particular title.

“Frankenstein,” he reads aloud, tilting it back with a smile. “Used to be my favorite growing up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom used to read it to me all the time.”

And you feel this undeniable tug on your heartstrings as you settle behind him, arms slipping around his middle. “What did you like about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I liked the idea of something so…broken being so beautiful. Or maybe it was just the idea of how he was built. And why. You know?”

“Yeah. I think it’s sweet you liked it so much. You never told me.”

“I mean, I stopped reading it as I got older. I think I just liked the way my mom read it to me. She’d do all these voices, try to freak me out.”

You laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“It was great. I loved it. S’probably one of my favorite memories growing up.”

And there’s that yanking in your chest again. “You’re cute, you know that?”

He smirks. “Thanks.”

With that, he releases the book, allowing it to fall back into place on the shelf beside the other novels.

But, the moment it lands, a startling and rather jarring rumble explodes from somewhere behind you. Compelling a jump as you both spin around in search for the offending sound.

And there, just beside the old grandfather clock that sits near the door, hangs one of the large paintings. This one of a beautiful woman wearing a stunning, purple grown and a coy smile. Yet, her portrait is moving. Sliding across the wall as if by magic until you’re able to see what lies behind.

A passageway.

You suck in a gasp as you and Harry both shine your lights into the dark opening. Finding nothing more than a narrow stairway that disappears into somewhere else in the house.

You look to Harry.

Harry looks to you.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, but you can see the excitement weaving through his dimple. “That’s…the coolest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You can’t help but agree, feet drawing you closer, as if compelled by the mesmeric introduction and inviting shadows. “Yeah…”

Footsteps follow you. “Bee, hold on. We don’t know where it goes or if we can get back out.”

Now, you hesitate, considering the rather valid point. “It probably leads to the attic. Caleb said he couldn’t figure out how to get up there, but I’m sure there’s a way back down. There’d have to be.”

“Maybe. Or maybe…that’s where the ghosts are waiting to lure us in—”

“All right,” you hiss, shoving on his arm before continuing for the door. “I will slap that dimple right off your face, I’m serious.”

“Well, you know I like it when you do.”

And even despite his teasing, you feel your stomach flip. Memories calling back to the forefront of your mind as you remember his pink skin and arrogant smirk. The way he’d beg you to keep going – give him more.

“Can you please be serious?” you choose to say, reaching back for his hand as you approach the entrance. “Because if we die in here, I don’t want one of the last things we said to be one of your shitty jokes.”

He laughs, but intertwines his fingers with yours willingly. Squeezing your palm for comfort. “Sorry, lovey. By all means, please do lead us into the deathtrap. You’ll hear no more jokes from me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good boy.”

He squishes your hand again knowingly before you take a deep breath and begin up the stairs.

The walls are about five feet apart in width, providing a rather narrow space for the two of you to slip between as you ascend up into the rest of the house. The path curves like a spiral, up and up until you’re almost sure there’s nowhere else to go. And your head pops right out of the roof.

Then, you come to the last one, and see that it opens up and leads into something else. A vast, empty floor with more light that you’ve seen anywhere else in the house.

Curious, you move a bit faster, eager to see what awaits. And once you step into the room…your breath catches.

Stained glass windows decorate each wall, the full moon projecting the most beautiful colors and imagery across the entire space. From the floor to the ceiling and every inch in between. It’s like walking into a rainbow. Or heaven. Such a stark contrast from the eerie journey up the stairs in nothing but darkness.

Harry’s shoulder brushes against yours as he steps up beside you. Eyes fluttering as he pockets his phone and glances about the room admiringly. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a quiet whisper. Walking toward the first window as your fingers outstretch for the tempered glass. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He follows you. “They must have loved it up here.”

You feel yourself smile. “I bet it was the perfect hideaway.” You motion toward the furthest wall where a dainty (but somewhat tattered) window seat lies. “Bet they came up here and just read or painted all day. Watched the sun rise and set.”

You feel him staring at you. Observing your profile as you continue to glance around, trying to soak in every little detail.

Then, you feel him. His touch sweeping across your cheek before he’s brushing a bit of hair from your shoulder. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You glance over.

“About us. Having kids, starting a family.” His expression is void of any of his previous taunting. Instead, solely focused on the soft skin of your jaw as he ghosts his thumb beneath your chin. “Is that what you really want? With me?”

And a part of your heart aches because…yes. You’d live a million lifetimes with him. With kids, without kids. Here, there. Fast-paced or easy-going. You’d do it all. You’d do everything with him.

Everything.

You reach up and slip your fingers around his wrist. Keeping him close as you nuzzle into his palm. “Of course I would, Har. Just want you.”

He steps closer, taking both sides of your face in his hands now as he keeps you in his strong hold. Gazing at you lovingly until you feel your insides twist.

“I will give you anything you want, Bee,” he murmurs, and you can feel his promise dance across your lips. “Give you kids. Give you a big, beautiful home. Give you the life you deserve.”

You inhale quietly, desperately grasping onto his arms.

“Anything you want, baby,” he breathes, and you know how much he means it. “Give you fucking everything.”

Tears spring to your eyes, dancing along your waterline until one jumps down your cheek. Right into Harry’s waiting thumb where he quickly soothes it away. “You know I would,” you tell him in a timid whisper. “I promise, I would, I just…I can’t…”

His eyes soften when he understands, yet his head shakes as he brings your chest to his. “It doesn’t matter how or why. If we want to start a family, we can. Any way we want to. Any way you want to. Nothing else matters, lovey. Just wanna do it together.”

Together.

You stumble over a choked sob, burying yourself in his embrace while he dips down to kiss you. Harder than he has all night and filled with a kind of love that can’t be explained. Only felt through the synchronistic brushing of his lips against yours.

“My girl,” he exhales, nudging his nose along your cheek before bringing his kisses back. “My fucking girl. Know I love you, yeah? Know you’re my only?”

You whimper, nodding pitifully as you allow him to take the reins. Deciding how far and how deep this kiss goes.

“Good.” He drops his hands to your hips, squeezing once. “Because you are, Bee. Never loved anybody the way I love you.”

And you know – you know he means it.

Something clicks in your brain. Something lustful and needy. You’re overcome with this anxious desire to have him. To be with him wholly. You want to crawl into his skin and live there. Be as close to him as possible.

Show him exactly how much he means to you.

The kisses become hungrier. Sloppier. Rushed and borderline animalistic as you reach down and lace your fingers with his. Guiding him away from the wall and toward the carpet in the center of the room.

He seems to understand your intent. Smiling against your mouth as you move him where you want him.

“Sneaky girl,” he breathes, pressing his mouth to your neck. Nipping below your ear until you sigh contently. “S’that why you really wanted to come up here, hm? Wanted to get me alone? Have your way with me?”

And even though he’s effortlessly putting the power in your hands, you can’t help but feel swayed by him. Drawn in by his suggestion and prowess while your stomach flips in on itself.

“Maybe,” you admit quietly, grinning when he chuckles darkly. “Because maybe I know…you want me to have my way with you. Don’t you?”

He nods quickly, groaning almost to himself before he gropes at your waist and moves his kisses to your exposed collarbone. “Do anything you want, Bee. I meant it.”

Pleased, you take yourself away from him. “Good. Because I want you on your knees.”

And he almost looks disappointed that he’s had to stop kissing you, but the starvation behind his eyes is unmistakable.

He drops so quickly, your head spins. Head tilted back and hands obediently landing on his thighs in wait.

“Good boy,” you can’t help but mutter, reaching down to press your palm to his cheek in gratitude. “Always obey me so well.”

“Always,” he repeats reverently. Voice thick as though drunk with longing.

“Can’t take too long, okay? They might come looking for us, and I don’t think we’d ever be able to live that down,” you add, softening your tone some to ease the charged tension.

“I know,” he replies quickly. Almost pitifully, as if desperate to agree and make you happy. “Be quick, I swear.”

A grin splits your face. “Want you to take off your jeans, baby,” you instruct now, nodding toward his hips. “Just your jeans. Don’t want you to get cold.”

So, he does. Fumbling with his belt and button before dragging the dark fabric down his beautiful thighs, revealing his new tattoo. It catches the moonlight and the reflection of the red glass across the room. Drawing in your attention while your mouth nearly waters.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead working quickly to rid himself of the material before returning to his knees.

“Good. My jeans next,” you tell him, and he extends his hands toward your waist.

Just as quickly as before, he slips, pulls, and tugs until you can step out of your pants and toss them aside. Making sure to hold your hand as you do so you don’t lose your balance.

It’s these little things that endear you to him. The way he doesn’t even realize he’s done something thoughtful. Instead offering such a gesture out of reflex and love.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his chin once. “Now…I want you to lie back for me, okay? Don’t want you to do anything else. Just wanna take care of you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow, and you can nearly see his heart thumping against his chest. He’s on his back in seconds, obediently lying on the carpet with his focus trained on you. Eager to see what you have in mind.

Truth be told, you’re rather eager, too. Crouching down near his ankles until you can straddle his legs.

He lifts his head off the floor in order to see you, glued to your every move while his breath hitches.

You begin to make your way up his body. Bringing your lips to the beautiful, warm skin of his thighs as you travel toward his hips. Allowing your kisses to guide you.

You hear him release a strained curse. Catching the way his chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly, as if in tune with his racing heart. And you’re going so slow, you think you might kill him. Dragging your tongue along the tattoo before flicking your eyes to his. Making sure you truly have his undivided attention.

His lashes flutter, leg twitching beneath you. “Bee…”

“Yes, baby?” Your coy innocence makes another groan reverberate from his chest. “What do you want, hm?”

“Please,” is all he has the strength to mumble, fingers twitching beside him. Desperate to weave through your hair and tug. “Lovey, please…”

“I know. But I wanna play with you a bit first, okay?” You straighten up and crawl toward the tops of his thighs, just above his dark boxers. “Gonna let me play with you, Daddy?”

Another quick nod before he drops his head back to the floor. Overcome with desire.

And you imagine you know what he thinks you’re going to do. That he’s confident in his guess as he awaits for you to confirm his suspicion.

But there’s something much more thrilling about catching him off guard. Torturing him just a little.

Because you know he loves it.

Once you feel comfortable in your new position, you allow your hand to travel between your legs. Dancing beneath the hem of your sweater before settling atop your baby blue underwear.

Your light grazes are innocent at first. Soft strokes along the cotton fabric. Enough to earn a shiver while Harry’s eyes cement to your hand. Mesmerized by the way you touch yourself.

You hum at the faint but teasing touches. Feeling almost giddy to quench this flame. Create pleasure for yourself and allow him to watch you. See exactly how good it feels.

Then, you hook the fabric to the side, and allow him the perfect visual of your cunt.

You notice a sharp chill as the cold air nips at you, but it only aids in encouraging you further. Making you grin to yourself while you use your other hand to drag your fingers through your pussy. Slipping between your folds and up to your clit.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyelids growing heavier. “Shit, Bee—”

You circle the sensitive nerves a few times to work yourself up. Indulging in the feel and the unexplainable relief it provides. It’s like a drug. Addicting and somehow not nearly enough.

“Baby, please—” he tries again, palms finally reaching for your thighs in an effort to touch you. At least somehow. “Fuck—”

“Thought you wanted to be good,” you say, pinching your clit until you gasp. “Thought…thought you wanted to give me anything—”

“I do,” he answers through a rushed breath. “Bee, I do. I do, please—”

“Then, I want you to watch. Want you to watch what you do to me.”

He groans again, and you can see the slight pink in his cheeks from the frigid air and the way he’s so entranced with you. “Lovey, please…”

You slip down, teasing the tip of your finger around your fluttering hole until you can feel the arousal beginning to gather. Humming while you roll your hips in tune with your hand. Riding your own fingers before you’re moving back to your clit.

“Har…” His name slips out before you can stop it. Sighing from your tongue without pause. As if it’s instinct to associate him with your pleasure. To say his name in a desperate plea for more.

You feel him squeeze your legs. Tighter than he ever has. “M’here,” he calls. “M’right here, baby. What do you need?”

Too much. “You, Har. You, always.”

He’s pulling on you now. Palms smoothing up the globes of your ass until he can practically yank you closer. “Just ask. Ask me, Bee, and I’ll give it to you.”

And you’re torturing yourself. Perhaps more than him, and you nearly whimper when you realize how badly you miss him.

So, you remove your hands from between your legs in order to reach for his boxers. Slipping inside and pulling his cock out until he lands against his stomach. Beautiful, and flushed, and leaking pearlescent drops that glisten beneath the light of the moon.

And once it’s free, you grind down. Dragging your once more covered cunt along his shaft. Close, but not close enough. Just to provide a bit of friction and make him moan as you brace yourself against his chest.

Your nails curl into the dark material of his shirt, scraping down his stomach as you reel. It’s so much and yet not even close to satiating you. Merely taunting you with the idea of what you really want. A type of release that will never be truly satisfactory like this.

“Fuck—” A lewd moan scrapes from the back of his throat. Hands pressing hard into your hips to help roll you over his cock faster and quicker. “Gonna fucking kill me, Bee.”

You’d like to be smug, but you’re too far gone to feel anything but need. “Har—”

“Gonna cum like this, baby? S’this all it takes?”

“I’m…I…”

“Look so cute, lovey. So fucking cute, using my cock to get off. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Rubbing your pretty little pussy all over me?”

Your eyes roll back, head feeling heavy as your chin drops to your chest.

Then, you feel his thumb against the only part of your clit he can reach. Pressing into it just enough to make you whimper. “Shh. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Wanna cum? Go ahead, you can cum, Bee. Make me so happy…just wanna feel you—”

And you hate how quickly it hits you. Hate that you truly thought you’d be able to edge yourself until you made him break.

But it consumes you from the inside out. Blindsiding your dominance until it sweeps you under his current. You become a trembling, shaking, moaning mess above him.

“There you go. Good fucking girl. So good…s’perfect,” he murmurs, continuing to guide you through it until you nearly collapse. “Feel better, baby?”

You nod weakly, cracking your eyes open just enough to catch his look of approval.

“Good,” he replies before a dark look seems to take hold. Hungrier than you’ve ever seen him.

Suddenly, he’s sitting up. Forcing you to lean back as his arms loop around your waist and he’s hoisting you both into the air. Straightening back onto his feet while carrying you in his arms toward the furthest wall.

You barely get the chance to glance around before he’s dropping you onto the small window seat, right against the painted glass.

With a gasp, you collide with the cushion (which is admittedly much more comfortable than the floor), gazing up at him with surprise and wonder.

He says nothing. He can’t. He’s lost in his need for you – for your pleasure. Crouching down near your legs in order to reach for your panties and rip them from ankles. And once they’ve been tossed aside, he settles his body between your thighs, and surges forward.

His mouth is the closest to heaven you imagine you’ll ever get. Warm and wet and so expertly kind as he drags his tongue between your soaked, sensitive folds. Flicking at your clit before sucking it into his mouth with the kind of sound that makes your chest cave in.

“Har—” you whine, writhing a bit from the overstimulation and intensified pleasure. He’s chasing after your next orgasm before your first has even subsided, and it nearly wrecks you. “Shit, Harry—”

Still, he has no response. There’s no time or room to speak with the way he nips at your cunt before lowering. Letting his tongue slide inside you before pulling it back. Just enough to leave you squirming.

“Harry,” you try again, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. Tugging with fervor until he does it again. “Fuck…please—”

His hands find your thighs. Pushing them open even further until you can feel the strain on your muscles from such a stretch.

He’s suffocating himself. Buried in your pussy, he takes whatever he wants. Greedily swallowing you down with lascivious groans and exhales of contentment. Fingers curling around your legs, leaving bruises along your sensitive skin.

He’s insatiable. Ignoring your cries and whimpers for mercy, instead pushing you back to the brink. Making you see stars before you can prepare yourself.

You’re all over his face. Can see yourself glisten off his chin and swollen lips, the stunning stained glass windows painting ethereal pictures of him on his knees. Taking you on his tongue as though his life depends on it.

He captures your clit between his teeth and tugs. Eliciting another wounded, pitiful noise as you slump against the glass.

The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, if not more. Because this time, he’s actually touching you. Blowing on your clit the moment he sees you begin to unravel, effortlessly dragging you into more pleasure.

You scratch his scalp so hard, you’re surprised you don’t draw blood. Practically pulling him through you while you ride his tongue and the wave of euphoria until you come crashing back down to Earth.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, features contorting with bliss. “Shit, H…please…please—”

But he’s far from through. Already licking the remnants of your orgasm from your quivering hole while you attempt to writhe away. The overstimulation almost painful as tears spring back to your eyes.

“Wait…wait, please,” you whisper, trying to recapture his attention by yanking on his curls and pushing your legs against his hands. “Baby, please…I need you. Need more, H…please.”

He looks up, and you see a glimmer of the moon in his eye. “What do you need more of? Hm? Tell me.”

You let your head drop back against the window, chest heaving beneath your thick sweater. “Har…can’t…I can’t, I need…need—”

“What?” he pushes. And you can hear the smug undertones as well as the reemergence of his cocky dimple. “What, baby? Tell Daddy what you need.”

And he knows what you need. He always knows, even before you do. But he wants to hear you say it. Wants to force the words from your mouth. Wants you to beg him for his cock.

With a heavy sigh, you answer, “You.”

“You already have me.”

You whine and toss your leg over his shoulder. Digging your heel into his spine to encourage him closer. “Need you to fuck me, H. Please…please, fuck me.”

His grin grows. “Well, well, well. Look at that. My sweet girl knows how to use her words after all.”

He crawls up to you, hands settling beside your hips as he leans forward.

“Doesn’t she?” he whispers, allowing his lips to ghost across yours. Teasing you with a taste of yourself.

You feel as though you’re drowning. Unable to capture enough air in your lungs to survive, and you throw your hands around his neck to yank him the remaining two inches.

His tongue feels like heaven against yours. A mix of you and him that you swallow greedily. Wanting more than he’s seeming to give you.

“Please,” you try again. Releasing the ask against his cheek before nuzzling your nose under his jaw. Intoxicated by the scent of him. “Harry…”

He doesn’t have much strength to refuse you. His willpower long forgotten as he quickly obliges and grabs onto your waist to yank you to the edge of the seat.

He then lifts your leg and sets it onto the cushion, bending it at the knee to create the angle he wants. Allowing him enough room to work while he grabs onto his cock and removes his boxers the rest of the way.

Hard and heavy in his hand, he guides the tip between your thighs. Dragging it down your clit almost tauntingly before slipping in. And it’s far too easy. He disappears into our pussy almost unintentionally. Allowing your warmth to draw him in and keep him inside you.

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“Shit,” he whispers when he feels the way your walls squeeze around his length. You might be used to his size, but those first few seconds are always euphoric. “There you go…you all right, Bee?”

You nod wordlessly, reaching out for his shoulders for something to hold onto.

“I know,” is all he says in response. Able to read your tells better than anyone ever has. “S’all right. I’ve got you.”

Once he’s fully inside of you, he offers a moment of relief. Settling there while his hands return to your hips to lift you up ever-so-slightly in order to use you the way he wants.

“Go,” you beg, nails drawing patterns down his back. “M’okay, go. Wanna feel you. Need to feel you cum.”

“Yeah?” He draws back before driving in. Hard enough to knock a gasp from your chest. “That’s what you want? Want Daddy’s cum in this pretty pussy?”

A blissful haze begins to cloud your vision. His sinfully sweet taunt ringing between your ears. Inciting an idea and a need you hadn’t thought possible.

“Oh…” When he realizes, that wicked look returns. “Oh, baby. You do, don’t you? Wanna be full of me. Want me to fill this sweet, little cunt until you’re dripping. Till I’m spilling out of you. All down your thighs. Down to the floor.”

You make another incoherent noise before succumbing to his hard thrusts. Falling mute and limp.

“Want me to lick it up…just to spit it down your throat,” he continues. “Want me everywhere. In your pussy…in your tummy. Just wanna be so fucking full of me.”

Every word from his mouth is crude and delicious. Designed to torture you and it works.

Because he’s right. You do want him everywhere. Want to feel him across every inch of your skin, inside every pore, dripping from every part of your body. Want to be stuffed with him. His tongue, his cock, his cum. There’s no part of this man you aren’t infatuated by.

“Say it,” he hisses, tugging your body up higher until he can slam into you from a different position. Finding that beautiful spot that makes your toes curl while you cry out and grab onto the seat beneath you for support. “Say how much you want my cum. Beg me for it.”

You can feel the sweat dripping down your back. Can feel the exhaustion in your limbs from having to contain so much pleasure.

And he’s careless yet practiced. Still gentle, even when he’s ramming his hips into yours. Nearly tearing you in half with the force of his cock, but with a sort of devotion you can’t explain. Even with such force, you feel relaxed.

Almost as if this is how you were always meant to be.

And then…something faint. Distant and familiar. The sound of voices – your friend’s voices, coming from somewhere inside the house.

For a moment, you worry you’ve been caught. That they’ve found you and are ready to run screaming from the house.

But you catch pieces of their conversation. Vague and somewhat confusing.

“—well, then, you check. I already tried—”

“—probably just looking around. Maybe they went back to their car—”

“—I’ll text her. They could be lost. This place is huge—”

They haven’t found you. In fact, it seems they’re still searching. Unaware that the two of you found the attic, and perhaps even unaware of the passageway, too.

Harry seems rather relaxed as he pauses just long enough to glance up. A look of understanding forming as he nods toward the ceiling.

You look, too.

The voices are coming from the vent. Echoing the conversation from somewhere else in the house as they walk through.

Your heart races. Because if you can hear them, that means…

He seems to consider this at the same time you do, head cocking deviously as he pulls back. “Shh,” he murmurs, thumb stroking your waist. “Gonna have to be extra quiet for me, okay?”

You take in another deep breath, another whine already bubbling up the back of your throat.

But he realizes this almost instantly. Hand coming up to press against your mouth and muffle your pathetic cry before you can make it. “Uh-uh,” he hisses, attempting to chastise but you can tell he’s amused. “Said no, Bee. Need you quiet or I stop.”

But he can’t stop. You can’t let him stop. You think if he stops, you might die. That you’ll disappear into nothing and spend the rest of your life chasing something only he can offer.

Instead, you grab onto his wrist, and keep it against your lips. Using it as an excuse to whimper against his palm and promise your attempt at silence.

And maybe he’s unconvinced. But he’s just as desperate as you are. To finish and find that serenity. To feel each other in every sense of the word.

So he takes your vow of obedience and continues. Resuming his thrusts as the sounds of voices slowly begin to fade away.

You’re brought right back to the precipice of pleasure. Reminded yet again of why you’d do anything for him. Why he’s so addicting. Not just because of his body…but because his heart.

Shades of blue, red, yellow, and purple explode across the walls and across your eyelids. The colors rich and vibrant, accentuated by the bright glow of the moon.

And you can see him perfectly. Can see his stunningly structured face. The ridge of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw. The damp curls that lay across his forehead and the rosy skin of his cheeks.

You know he’s always been handsome. Not just to you, but to everyone.

But now…he’s ethereal. Because he’s not just some guy. He’s not just Harry. He’s the man you love. The only true home for your soul. Your comfort place, your future.

Your everything.

And that’s what makes him so beautiful.

When he notices your stare, something shifts. He drops his hand, and surges forward to kiss you. Throwing a stutter in his rhythm as he laces his tongue with yours.

“Shit,” is all you manage to make out of his hushed moans. “Gonna give you everything, Bee. Gonna fill you. Keep my cum inside you forever. Fucking forever, baby. M’yours. Always.”

You can feel yourself clenching down on him. Already approaching your third before he’s even allowed himself a first. It’s a trait of his you’ve noticed he exhibits quite often. Perhaps it’s a masochistic practice or perhaps it’s his nature to want your orgasms over his own. Waiting until he’s sure you’re taken care of before he allows himself to find relief.

Yet another one of these little things you’d be lost without.

When he realizes just how close you are, he leans back and brings his lips together. Spitting directly onto your clit before bringing his fingers into play.

“There,” he grits, inflicting quick circles against the tender, swollen nerves that make you whine. “That’s all it takes, isn’t it?”

Your body answers for you. You’re nothing but a string of noises and twitching muscles. Dissolving into your orgasm until that’s all you are. Just his victory. His perfect prize to be claimed.

You feel him watch you. Infatuated with the way you tense and squirm before you finally settle back against the glass to catch your breath.

And perhaps that’s what does it for him. Not just feeling you cum but seeing it. The physical proof of your passion written so visibly across your face. The way you soak his cock, the way you drip down onto the seat below, the way you cling to him.

He chases that sensation. Chases the way it makes him feel and the release it promises him.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish now that he’s not holding himself back. A few quick but hard thrusts and he’s spilling himself into your pussy with a low groan, face burying into your neck.

He holds you still through every second. As close as he possibly can, even after you’re sure he’s finished.

The emotional orgasm feels just as overwhelming as the physical one. You can’t help but wrap your arms around his body to hold him against your heart. Listening to the sounds of his strained breaths before they slowly even out.

And he’s so happy. You know he is. Refusing to move as his cum sits inside of you. Wanting to keep it there like he promised.

You want to keep him the same way.

“Fuck,” you hear him whisper. It seems unintelligible curse words are about all the two of you have to offer in moments like this. It makes you smile. “Think I came so hard, I blacked out.”

You giggle at this, moving to hook your leg around his middle. “I’m glad you came. Feels good.”

He turns his head so his cheek can rest on your shoulder. “Yeah? S’my cum feel nice? All warm inside you?”

And there’s something about the way he says it. Soft but secure. Teasing you and caring for you all in the same breath.

You hum.

“Got it all snug inside your little pussy, baby?” He presses a kiss to your neck. A reassuring gesture meant to reward you. “Gonna keep it for me?”

You nod fervently before clinging onto his body a bit tighter. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine – either from the cold or his response. Truthfully, you aren’t sure.

“Hmm. That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist in order to hold you closer. Hugging you, almost, as he settles in your embrace. “Guess we better get going, hm?”

But you don’t like this idea. Already feeling your expression fall into a desolate pout as you suck in a sharp inhale and cement yourself to his larger frame.

He senses this shift – this refusal – and stills. “What? What’s wrong?”

You don’t have an answer. You suppose nothing is wrong, per se…as long as he doesn’t leave.

“Bee,” he tries again, a bit firmer. The singular nickname laced with apprehension. “Lovey, what happened, what's wrong? You know you have to talk to me, okay? Have to communicate with me—”

“Nothing,” you whisper, cutting his bargaining short. “Nothing, I just…don’t want you to go, Daddy.”

A brief pause. Silent and filled with an unspoken tension that melts into something tender. “Bee, I’m not going anywhere. Just wanna clean you up and hold you a bit. Like we always do. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

You consider this. You do love when he holds you. Especially when he runs his hands down your sore limbs. Massaging the aches away while keeping you safe in his arms.

The mere thought makes you sigh. “Promise?”

He squeezes your hip. “Always, baby.”

With that, you unhook yourself from his body, and allow him to move back. Taking himself from you almost painfully before he’s putting himself away and moving for your clothes.

He finds your underwear and both pairs of jeans, bringing them back to you almost respectfully.

He helps you step into them, securing your panties around your waist with an impish wink and a soft, “Gonna save it for later, yeah?”

Once you’re both dressed again, he fits himself between you and the window, and places you in the middle of his lap. Your back against his chest while his palms sweep up and down your arms, easing the pains away.

“Was that okay?” he asks after a quiet moment of reflection. “Did you like what we did?”

You drop your focus down to his hands. To the way they look on your body. You hum. Say nothing.

In turn, he shifts, attempting to sneak a glimpse of the side of your face. “Bee, d’you hear me?”

Still, you’re silent. Trailing your finger along his knuckles and over his wrist. Entranced by him. Hypnotized.

He uses this very hand to reach for your jaw. Squeezing it just hard enough to capture your attention and turn your face to his. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Are you all right?”

You feel your frown return, chest tightening with the implication. “Scared? Why are you scared? What…what did I do?”

There’s a subtle pull in his eyebrows. Almost imperceptible but you manage to catch it before it smooths away. “Nothing, sweet girl. But I want to make sure you’re okay. That I didn’t hurt you or take things too far. And if I did, I want to know. I need to know.”

“Daddy, you never hurt me. Ever.” The frown intensifies, nearly taking control of your whole face. “Don’t say that, it makes me sad.”

Again, a flash of confusion and subtle recognition streaks behind his soft gaze. “Daddy just wants to make sure you’re feeling all right. That you feel safe and comfortable with me. Now…and before.”

“Of course I do. Always feel comfortable with you.”

You imagine he should feel relieved to hear this, and yet he sighs as he releases your jaw. “Oh, baby.”

It’s heavy the way he speaks. Akin to disappointment, but there’s a touch of sadness. Perhaps even understanding.

It breeds a constriction in your chest that feels like a snake coiling around your lungs. “What…what did I do? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he’s quick to whisper, tightening his hold on you. “God, no, sweet girl. Just realized something, that’s all.”

A tad reassured, you straighten up. “Oh? What?”

He nuzzles his cheek against your temple and pulls you even further into his chest. “Nothing bad, I promise. Just that I need to take extra good care of you right now.”

“Really?

He nods. “Mhm. So, what do you think, lovey, hm? Should we go home? Think we’ve done enough exploring for one day.”

Your lashes flutter, a bit startled by the switch. “We…you wanna leave?”

“I do. I wanna take you home and hold you. Properly,” he says gently, laying a chaste kiss to your forehead. “We can take a bath, get all nice and warm again. Know it’s getting cold, isn’t it?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized the drastic drop in temperature. But with this mention, you feel a noticeable chill dancing across the room. Can feel your breath grow icier as it leaves your lips.

“And once we’re warm again, we can crawl into bed, and just stay,” he continues. “Watch a movie, eat some snacks. Do whatever you wanna do, baby. S’that sound good?”

And it does. It sounds like heaven. Anything with him always does. “Can we please?”

He grins again before kissing your temple again. “Of course. We’ll head out now. Think you can walk or do you need my help?”

Your legs do feel a bit wobbly, but in all honesty, the idea of having him hold you all the way down is what you really want. To make sure he doesn’t take himself from you, even if you’re merely walking to the car.

Your innocent pout is answer enough, and he chuckles. “Want my help, don’t you?”

Nodding eagerly, you sit up, allowing him to slip back out from behind you and stand. Once he has, he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, making sure to steady you when you feel a bit rocky before leading you toward the stairs.

You leave the heavenly room behind, bidding the stunning shadows adieu as you disappear down the dark stairwell.

And you hope, if there are ghosts, that they enjoyed the show.

After you’ve returned to the spare room on the first floor, Harry strides over to the bookshelf, and tilts the Frankenstein book back just like he had before. Prompting the portrait to slide closed in the same manner as it had when it opened. Hiding the secret staircase away for the next wandering couple.

Then, he turns to you. “All right, baby, let’s go.”

He crouches down, signaling that he’d like you to climb onto his back again, and you do rather giddily. Cementing yourself to his spine as you cling to him like a koala bear, allowing him to lead you back out into the main part of the house.

You find your friends already waiting by the door, talking casually until they see you coming out from the shadows.

You feel Harry squeeze your ankles as a sign of encouragement and you sigh to yourself while cuddling closer.

“Where the hell have you been, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Jackie calls. “You just left me with these dipshits.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. Got a bit lost and then we started talking. Did you find the attic?”

“No,” Charlie huffs, and he sounds rather offended. “I don’t think there is an attic. Think Caleb’s just full of shit.”

“I’m telling you, it’s there,” Caleb argues. “Other people have gone up, I just don’t know how they found it.”

“Huh. Weird,” Harry muses, and you have to turn your face away to hide your smirk. “Well, listen, I think we’re gonna head out. But this was fun. Thanks for the invite.”

“Aw, really? Already? We thought maybe we’d head over to Waffle House or something,” Jackie tells you. “You know, eat a shit ton of whipped cream and syrup in the spirit of Halloween.”

To this, Harry smiles, glancing back at you as if to check for permission and see if you’re interested. But you can’t really offer him much else except a shy grin, which he seems to understand.

“I think we’re just gonna turn in for the night,” he says instead. “But you guys have fun. We’ll have to do this again for Christmas.”

The other three laugh as you call your goodbyes and allow Harry to carry you to the car.

He sets you down by the passenger door in order to unlock it and swing it open. And once it is, he’s still ever the gentleman, helping you sit and making sure you’re buckled in before shutting the door and jogging over to his side.

As he fumbles with his keys and gets the engine started, your eyes trail up toward the top of the large mansion before you. Finding those beautiful windows once more as you bid them goodbye as well.

You feel Harry’s hand slip around yours, recapturing your attention as you look over and catch his grin. “You ready?”

You nod and squeeze his palm three times. “Mhm. Always.”

Pleased, he brings your knuckles to his lips. Leaving a lingering kiss that nearly takes your breath away. “Happy Halloween, Bee.”

And your heart has never felt so full.

“Happy Halloween, Harry.”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🧡🧡🧡 (or just regular old Tuesday)!!! Thank you so much for joining me for Freaky Fun and for being so kind and supportive!!! You all have my heart!! Have a safe, wonderful night filled with laughs and amazing treats!! 😭♥️

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mrsriddles-blog · 2 months

Text

Get Him Back | D.M

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Ex-Draco Malfoy X Theodore Nott

WC: 4k+

Warnings/Notes: Bullying, mild language, heartbreak, angst…

Summary: In which, you and Draco ended on a bad note and you’ve decided to seek out revenge…but unexpectedly you fall in love.

Authors Notes: Honestly, not my best piece… :/ I know I could’ve done better, but I kinda just went with it on this. Theodore was unplanned lol

One, two, three

Wait, is the song with the drums?

“Draco, I understand that Miss. Y/n Riddle is quite pretty, but I would like for you to pay attention to my lesson.” Professor McGonagall says.

The class laughs and you refuse to turn around to give Draco that attention after everything you had been through with him. Pansy smiles sadly at you, seeing exactly how much this hurt you.

You knew Draco from around Hogwarts, but you both had gotten together over the summer after getting closer once your families came to know each other. Everything was perfect in the beginning, but it all came crashing down eventually.

Draco is quite good at hiding his true colors, especially at the beginning of a relationship. You learned that he hid those true colors for so long in hopes it would be harder for you to leave…that you would learn to deal with it like it was normal.

You’ve told Pansy that somewhere in his delusional mind that he must’ve forgotten you're a Riddle and you don’t put up with anyones bullshit. You don’t tolerate anyone's disrespect though…maybe a bad trait you picked up from your father, but it’s okay.

Draco was a sweet guy, but then it turned out he had a big ego and he was a narcissistic liar. He was the most fun guy you knew and he had weird friends like Crabbe and Goyle. They were funny too. He used his name and money to get you both into the coolest parties, nights that you felt like would never end.

But, then he started to show more of his true colors. He learned when he began to say things wrong or his lies somehow got twisted back on himself, that he could just take you to a place you dreamed of or to buy you a “sentimental” gift. You found yourself missing him on nights you felt really sad or alone, but your feelings for him were up and down. You knew you wanted to get him back for what he did to you. You want him to hurt the way he hurt you.

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring

He argued with me about everything

He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye

He said he’s six-foot-two, and I’m like, “Dude, nice try”

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

Another song, another club, another bar, another dance

And when he said something wrong, he’d just fly me to France

So I miss him some nights when I’m feeling depressed

‘Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend

Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down

If I had to choose, I would say right now

Pansy was dressed as an angel for the Halloween party and you were dressed as a devil. You wore a tight black mini-dress, and Pansy wore a tight white mini-dress. She had angel wings and a halo while you had devil horns and a tail. She wore white heels while you wore black. You stood in the corner with Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo and Blaise as you watched Pansy go get you both drinks.

She was on her way back when Draco approached her. You watch his flirty smile as he trails his hand up her arm to her face. You watch as that flirty smile dropped and his face twisted to one of pain as he crouched down to grab himself. You smirk as Pansy strides to you and hands you a green solo cup.

“Can you believe him? He just tried to make a pass on me? After the shit he did to you, he thought he had a chance with your bestie? He truly is a delusional fuck.” She snorts.

“He did that a lot when we were dating. He always had a wandering eye…I just thought I was being over-sensitive or something.” You say, glancing over at Draco who was now sulking at the bar.

“Hey, don’t let that dumb fuck make you sad. He is nothing to you.” She says sternly.

You smile, unconvinced as you down the drink in your cup. Mattheo and Tom watch with frowns, knowing very well you weren’t over Draco. They looked at each other before making their way over to the bar. You and Pansy moved out to the dance floor, dancing as Enzo and Theodore kept watch over you both.

You both stopped dancing like everyone else as you heard a commotion. You follow the shouting and see your brothers beating the fuck out of Draco. You push through the crowd, trying to diffuse the fight when Theodore wraps an arm around your waist.

“He deserves it fiore, just let it go.” He murmurs in your ear.

“But, if we don’t break this up…Tom and Mattheo could potentially get caught. If Snape hears this, he will be so mad. If they get in trouble and our dad finds out…they’ll get in so much trouble.” You say.

“Trust me, they won’t get in trouble. Your father has requested this to happen.” He murmurs.

You were at a loss for words as Mattheo and Tom stepped back, leaving Draco on the floor. He barely lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours before Mattheo throws another punch at his face, cursing him for even daring to look at you. You struggle against Theodore, but you manage to reach forward and put a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder.

“Matty, please.” You plead.

“This fucker deserves this and more for everything he did to you.” He snaps.

You flinch, not use to that tone from Mattheo. Growing up with the father you had, you three were always together. Granted, you three had a strange bond for being triplets, but your brothers had shown you a side they never showed anyone. Mattheo tensed as Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glares at Mattheo.

You take your hand off his shoulder, pulling away from Theodore before storming through the crowd before hearing a random girl laugh about you being sensitive. You turn, throwing a punch at her nose, hearing the satisfying crack as she falls backwards, unconscious.

You turn, continuing your trek to your dorm where you slam the door, locking it before lying on your bed. You grab the jumper that was Draco’s. You had stolen it from him, it was his favorite. You throw it in the fireplace, watching it burn with a sick satisfaction growing in the pit of your stomach.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back, back, back

“You can’t ignore me forever.” Mattheo sighs as he follows you to the Great Hall.

“She can, and she probably will.” Tom says, following as well, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“She is ignoring you too dipshit.” He snaps.

Draco walks up to you, glancing at your brothers fearfully and you tilt your head at him, a small smirk on your face.

“Y/n/n, can we talk?” He asks.

“No.” You say.

“I want…I want to apologize…I messed up, royally and I just…I really miss you.” He says.

“Hey, fiore.” Theodore says, coming up beside you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning down to kiss your head. You look up at him and smile. He smiled back, your brothers gaping at you both from behind you guys.

“You’ve…moved on with the guy I was worried about you cheating on me with?” He asks in disbelief.

“Malfoy…if I were you, I’d get out of my fucking face. If you truly knew Y/n, you would know you wouldn’t have to worry about her cheating. When she gives you the chance to love her as she does you, you take that fucking chance and hold onto it fucking tight.” Theodore says, splaying a hand on your back and stomach as he angles himself between you and Draco.

Draco scoffs, looking you over once before storming out of the Great Hall. You look up at Theodore and smile.

“Couldn’t have had better timing.” You say and he grins.

“Oh, I know.” He says.

“Um, excuse me. When the fuck did this happen?” Mattheo asks, stepping between you two, Theodore’s hands leaving you.

“We are fake dating in order to get Draco back. I wanted revenge and I decided to hit him where it hurts.” You explain.

“Fake dating…right.” He murmurs, looking at Theodore.

“Come on, fiore.” Theodore says, walking you to the table.

“Awww, I broke my streak of ignoring them.” You grumble.

“I think you ignored them long enough, fiore. They’ve apologized more than I’ve witnessed them fight…and they fight a lot.” He says, chuckling as your brothers take a seat at the table.

“So, what are the rules for this…fake dating?” Mattheo asks.

“No falling in love.” You say, picking at your plate of food.

“Like that ever works.” Mattheo mumbles, Tom the only one able to hear him.

Theodore wraps his arm around your waist, looking over at you for a moment. You glance down the table to see Draco glaring at Theodore. You felt a tinge of pride before you felt guilty for the fake-dating thing with Theodore. You knew he always had feelings for you, but you hoped that he’d get over it. But, by how easily he agreed to this plan of yours…you were pretty sure there were some underlying feelings there still.

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash

‘Cause I miss the way he kisses me and the way he made me laugh

Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I’m hitting “Send”

I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends

Because everyone knew all of the shit that he’d do

He said I was the only girl but that just wasn’t the truth

And when I told him how he hurt me, he’d tell me I was trippin’

But I am my father’s daughter, so maybe I could fix him

“Theodore, are you ready?” You groan impatiently.

“Almost, fiore.” He calls from the bathroom.

You walk over to the mirror in his dorm, smoothing out the skin-tight dark green dress. You fix your hair, before looking yourself over in the mirror once more. You nod just as Theodore walks out. You look over to see him dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned all the way. Some of his sculpted chest was on show. His hair was a fluffy mess as usual.

“You look beautiful, fiore.” He murmurs.

Your cheeks flush red, smiling shyly at him as you nod. He chuckles, one that went straight to your core. You guys walk out and decide to immediately go to dance. As you're dancing, his eyes flicker over your shoulder as they harden.

He pulls you closer to him, his hand wandering down your ass and grabbing it roughly. You gasp, looking up at him to see him look down at you. He leans down and kisses you, one that is deep and passionate. Your hands get lost in his hair and you realize that somewhere along the way, you broke the number one rule: don't fall in love.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for his tender love and care. Not to mention how sweet and gentle he was with you. He treated you as if you were royalty and it was sweet. You found yourself loving the way he laughs and the way he grabs your ass. You pull back, only to pull him back into a kiss.

“I think I broke our rule.” You whisper against his lips.

“You didn’t say anything about already being in love, so I technically didn’t break it. I just hoped that maybe you’d realized how much you mean to me.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry, Theo…I should’ve realized sooner.” You admit quietly.

“Don’t apologize. I have you now and that is all that matters. However, I know you've been wanting to get Malfoy back and I don’t blame you.” He says, swaying with you to the sensual song.

“No, no, enough of this getting Malfoy back. Malfoy had his chance. Yes, he fucked up…but I can’t keep letting that hold me back. I’ve been sulking over a relationship that didn’t work out for obvious reasons and all along…I should’ve been with the person who was standing right in front of me.” You mumble.

“We’ll get him back together. But, as an official girlfriend and boyfriend duo. Maybe next time he’ll think before breaking a good girl's heart.” He murmurs.

“Nott, I get that you both are confessing your love right now, but please get your hand off my sister's ass.” Mattheo calls.

Theodore chuckles, looking down at you, squeezing your ass once more before moving his hand back to your hip. Your cheeks flush red as you shake your head in amusement.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back

You were in detention with Theodore, Mattheo, Tom and Draco. Mattheo and Tom got to sit together while you and Theodore got to sit together. Draco was sulking in the front of the room. You and Theodore were cuddled up together, whispering and laughing quietly.

“Okay, I get it. You are all happy, but will tone it the fuck down.” Draco seethes.

“Malfoy, I get it. You are throwing yourself a pity party because you let the best girl in this world slip through your fingers. But, that was your fucking fault. Just because you're pissed doesn’t mean you can take away her happiness. I’ll beat the fuck out of you before letting that happen again.” Theodore warns.

“I’ll help.” Mattheo chirps, grinning at Draco.

“So will I…I’m sure you remember that my methods are a bit more practical…like my fathers.” Tom says, looking at Draco unamused.

“Whatever.” Draco mumbles.

“Let’s get out of here. I have an idea.” You whisper to Theodore.

“Bet.” He murmurs.

You both were quick to leave, laughing quietly as you both snuck back to the Common Room. You grab his hand, dragging him along to the boys dormitories.

“Fiore, where are we going?” Theodore murmurs confused as you both passed his dorm.

“I figured out a way to get Malfoy back. We do it and get back to detention before Snape notices.” You murmur, excitement dancing across your features.

“Take it away, fiore.” He murmurs.

You continue to lead Theodore down the hall until you reach Draco’s dorm. You use a spell, unlocking his door before you both slip in. You see his broom in the corner of the room and grin. You pull the key to your dorm out before you start to completely ruin his broom. Theodore was quietly laughing from where he stood as you continued your handiwork. You stand, the both of you giggling as you both hurry back to detention.

“Where did you lovebirds sneak off to?” Mattheo asks.

“I got hungry.” You say simply.

“And I follow her wherever she goes. I’m simply only allowed a chains length away. She’s got me on a tight leash.” Theodore teases.

“Oh shush, I do not.” You say, your cheeks flushing red.

“Mhm, right.” He teases with his perfect small smile.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back)

Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back)

With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back)

“Who did it?” Draco demands, storming into the Common Room with his destroyed broom.

You look over, fighting the smirk that wanted to appear on your face. Your handiwork looked quite brilliant if you say so for yourself. So, this is what sweet revenge feels like? Theodore continues to rub your legs that were draped across his lap.

“Was it you?” He asks, storming towards you.

Theodore jumps up, standing in front of you as your brothers flank Theodore’s side. You stand up, only for Theodore to push you back on the couch. With one warning look from him, your ass was planted on the couch.

“You don’t get to come in here demanding stuff, Malfoy. Especially from my girl. If you ever come at her like that again, you’ll be in for a rude awakening.” Theodore warns.

“She has literally been striving to ruin my life because she can’t handle a summer fling.” He snaps.

“No, she hasn’t strived to do anything you idiot. You know it wasn’t a summer fling. It was a relationship that you messed up.” Mattheo snaps.

You push past Theodore, ignoring his stern scolding. You look Draco dead in the eye, before taking another step forward.

“If I’ve wanted to ruin your life, trust me, it would be in shambles by now. I’m far more capable and far more cruel than my brothers and father. There is a reason our mother isn’t named and trust me, I’m far too much like her.” You warn.

“Just admit it! This was you! My father will kill me if he finds out my new broom is ruined! You should know better than anyone!” He snaps.

“You're scared of your father? You're scared of what he might do? Well clearly you haven’t met my father.” You laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Y/n…just admit it. Please.” He pleads.

“Admit to something that I had no hand in? I think you forget that you’ve got far too many enemies on your plate. Keep it up and I will give you something to worry about.” You murmur quietly, so only he could hear you.

He shakes his head, turning and leaving. You turn and look up at Theodore who was looking down at you with a stern look.

“Oh, come on. I handled that very well.” You sigh.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You should’ve stayed behind me and let us handle it. God knows what Malfoy would be willing to do to you.” He says, a frown evident on his face.

“But, I can handle my own problems.” You mumble.

“I know, but I’m here to help you.” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

You plop onto the couch, ignoring him as you felt both guilty and upset. You wanted to let him be happy with helping you, but you also wanted to be able to defend yourself. Theodore sighs, lifting your legs as he sits down next you, putting your legs on his lap.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to be able to protect you. That summer…I could tell how much you loved and cared for Malfoy and he couldn’t even reciprocate that and he strived off hurting you. It hurt me to see you hurting…to see you with him when I wanted to be with you. I wanted to take care of you and to protect you…I wanted to show you what love could really be.” He says.

“I understand that, Theo…I do, but you can’t shield me from the world. There are some battles that are mine to fight. But, I’m not saying I don’t need you there with me. You’re my rock.” You explain.

Oh, I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

Stitch it right back up

I wanna kiss his face (I want to get him back)

With an uppercut

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

And tell her her son sucks, yeah

“Alright, are we done with this Malfoy revenge thing? Because as far as I know…you’ve made him jealous of you and Theodore…fake dating that led to real dating…ruining his broom…what else?” Mattheo murmurs.

“And there!” You exclaim as his pumpkin juice ends up all over his face and the front of his shirt.

“Is that it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, unsure. You felt like there was one more thing you needed to do to ensure your revenge. You knew it wasn’t the brightest thing to keep doing this to Draco. Some would view that you had done enough. But, you weren’t so sure. Draco hurt you in ways you didn’t think was possible. You always thought of yourself as stronger than that.

“Draco has been talking about you.” Pansy says, taking a seat across from you after pushing Mattheo down the bench.

“Rude.” He grumbles.

“Oh, what has he been saying?” You ask curiously.

“That he misses you…that he feels bad…he might’ve said something about Theo, but I’m not sure if it’s true or not.” She says.

“What did he say about Theo?” You ask.

“That he’s been seeing other girls behind your back.” She mumbles.

“No, no, that’s not true. Theo wouldn’t ever do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“He has a track record.” Pansy mumbles.

You stay quiet, looking down at Draco before grabbing your bag and pulling out a truth potion. You pour it into your cup of pumpkin juice before switching yours and Theodore’s cups.

“Should I be concerned that you just have those on you?” Tom asks.

“It’s for good reason.” You mutter, tucking your bag away as Theodore walks in.

He sits, taking a drink of his pumpkin juice before looking around the table confused as they were all glancing at each other.

“So…my father has asked me to question you…in order for us to protect Y/n/n from getting hurt anymore.” Tom says.

“Ask away.” Theodore says.

“Are you being true to my sister?” He asks.

“Yes.” He murmurs.

“Is Y/n the only girl or do you have other side pieces?” He asks.

“Y/n is the only girl.” He says, his hand grabbing yours under the table.

“Do you love her?” He asks.

“Yes.” He says.

“What are your intentions with her?” He asks.

“To love her…to protect her… to cherish her and give her the world. I want to shield her from anymore hurt. Trust me, I never want to see her hurting again.” He says.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenege

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back, back

“My lord, I-I’m sorry.” Draco stutters.

You were being held by Theodore. He had an arm around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him. He had a hand over your mouth so that your father wouldn’t be angry with you for trying to protect Draco. Despite everything Draco did to you, you knew even this was too far.

“You hurt my daughter. Do you know how much she means to me? She means the world to me and no one is allowed to hurt her.” Voldemort snarls.

Except you, you think.

“I’m s-sorry my lord! I’m so sorry! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Just make this stop, my lord! Please!” He pleads.

“You’ll be daunted with extra tasks and knowing that if you don’t finish them, the death of your father and mother before your eyes will be your fault before I kill you myself. Stay away from Y/n or I’ll ruin you myself, Malfoy.” He warns.

He let Draco up who left quickly, not sparing a glance back. Theodore uncovered your mouth before your father could see. He wipes the stray tear off your cheek right before your father turned to you.

“He’ll stay away from you now, princess.” Voldemort murmurs, stepping forward and cupping your cheek.

“T-Thank you father.” You whisper.

“Of course. Now go on.” He murmurs.

I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him back

Get him back, come on, come on

I’m gonna get him so good, he won’t even know what hit him

He’s gonna love me and hate me at the same time

Get him back, girl, you better get him back

I don’t know I got him good, I got him really good

#harry potter universe #hp fandom #slytherin #theodore nott #pansy parkinson #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #angst #heartbreak #draco malfoy x reader #riddle reader #tom riddle #matteo riddle #song fic #Spotify

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