100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,495
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,495
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Hours
Title: Hours
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: M/F, slight DH-spoilers
Summary: #4 – Hours, how long does love last?
Word Count: 787 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Smacks of a longer fic? Muahaha. Only a drabble. Suggested by donquixote17
Prompt # 4 – Hours
Pink had never been complimentary to Hermione’s skin tone, and as her best friend, Harry Potter, ripped the bodice of the pink bridesmaid dress, she could not help but feel a bit of glee.
Pressed into the corner of Ron’s old bedroom at the Burrow, Hermione moaned as Harry’s mouth enveloped her left nipple, suckling at the pointed flesh while his calloused hand squeezed the right breast. She was tempted to thread her fingers into his dark hair, which he had somehow tamed, it being his wedding day, but did not want to muss the raven locks. His finely tailored dress robes clung to his toned physique like a second skin, and Hermione could feel a rush of hot dampness pooling in her knickers as she thought about what was under the expensive fabric.
Hours…two to be exact until the ceremony in the garden…friends, family, surviving Order members, and a limited presence of the press waited for Harry Potter to utter his vows to Ginerva Weasley.
The how and why of Harry Potter’s hands now moving to hitch up Hermione’s skirts were simple.
“Just once more, Hermione, before I will never be able to do it again,” Harry had whispered, pinning Hermione into the corner after violently jerking her out of the hall and into Ron’s old room.
She could never deny Harry. Not when he first took her while they ran together, searching for Horcruxes, and not on his wedding day…
His lips smacked as he pulled his mouth away from her breast, ripping at her skirts so that he finally could look down to see her dark red satin knickers. Glancing up, he grinned at her, and she smirked in return, her hands reaching out to remove his glasses, tossing the battered spectacles to Ron’s bed. She wanted to see his eyes…one last time…that endless emerald green.
With a violent motion, Hermione saw her nicest pair of knickers float down to the floor. She groaned.
Harry fidgeted with the front of his trousers as Hermione braced her arms on the walls, angled to either side of her. She was sure she looked wanton, her legs spread, her dress torn, her mouth open in an anxious pant…her painted mouth watering as Harry’s turgid cock sprang free from the confines of his trousers.
Hermione wanted Harry just as badly as he wanted her…even if it were for the last time. They had found comfort in each other during that dark time running and hiding. Sex was just an expression for a love they shared…but not a love that would ever bind them together in anything other than the deepest friendship. Or, that was what Hermione forced herself to think.
Harry stepped toward her, grasping one leg and wrapping it about his waist, lifting her so that her bare back slid against the old papered wall. Her other leg came next, and she held her breath.
“Two hours from now, will you wish me well, Hermione, or will you be thinking of this?”
At his last word, he dropped her, pressing her against the wall as his cock penetrated her tight core. He covered her mouth with his hand just before she screamed at the sudden fullness lodged so impossibly deep in her pussy. Her stifled scream made his balls tighten.
The scream passed, and Hermione’s head fell forward to rest on Harry’s robe-clad shoulder.
“I love you, Hermione,” he whispered into her ear, styled curls tickling his lips as he spoke.
She stiffened, but did not raise her face as Harry began to thrust into her body. All she could do was clench at his shoulders to keep from falling, holding her weight with her legs around Harry’s waist, and using the force of the wall pressing into her back to keep her upright.
Harry held her tight, breathlessly kissing her neck, his teeth snagging her right ear lobe.
“I love you…” he panted, his cock arching up into her, bouncing her so that her eyes raised and Harry was confronted with Hermione’s tortured face, tears threatening to fall.
Two hours…and Hermione would be totally alone. She was the only one of the Trio who had not found the one she loved. Harry was leaving her, even as he fucked her against the wall of Ron’s old bedroom. This was to be the last time, but at Harry’s words of love, and his desperate kiss, she wondered how long it would be before Harry would come to her again. Months, days after the wedding?
Somehow, as Harry whimpered into their kiss, his thrusts erratic, hot seed filling her, hot seed spilling upon his robes and the remnants of her bridesmaid dress, she knew it would be hours.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: M/F, slight DH-spoilers
Summary: #4 – Hours, how long does love last?
Word Count: 787 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Smacks of a longer fic? Muahaha. Only a drabble. Suggested by donquixote17
Prompt # 4 – Hours
Pink had never been complimentary to Hermione’s skin tone, and as her best friend, Harry Potter, ripped the bodice of the pink bridesmaid dress, she could not help but feel a bit of glee.
Pressed into the corner of Ron’s old bedroom at the Burrow, Hermione moaned as Harry’s mouth enveloped her left nipple, suckling at the pointed flesh while his calloused hand squeezed the right breast. She was tempted to thread her fingers into his dark hair, which he had somehow tamed, it being his wedding day, but did not want to muss the raven locks. His finely tailored dress robes clung to his toned physique like a second skin, and Hermione could feel a rush of hot dampness pooling in her knickers as she thought about what was under the expensive fabric.
Hours…two to be exact until the ceremony in the garden…friends, family, surviving Order members, and a limited presence of the press waited for Harry Potter to utter his vows to Ginerva Weasley.
The how and why of Harry Potter’s hands now moving to hitch up Hermione’s skirts were simple.
“Just once more, Hermione, before I will never be able to do it again,” Harry had whispered, pinning Hermione into the corner after violently jerking her out of the hall and into Ron’s old room.
She could never deny Harry. Not when he first took her while they ran together, searching for Horcruxes, and not on his wedding day…
His lips smacked as he pulled his mouth away from her breast, ripping at her skirts so that he finally could look down to see her dark red satin knickers. Glancing up, he grinned at her, and she smirked in return, her hands reaching out to remove his glasses, tossing the battered spectacles to Ron’s bed. She wanted to see his eyes…one last time…that endless emerald green.
With a violent motion, Hermione saw her nicest pair of knickers float down to the floor. She groaned.
Harry fidgeted with the front of his trousers as Hermione braced her arms on the walls, angled to either side of her. She was sure she looked wanton, her legs spread, her dress torn, her mouth open in an anxious pant…her painted mouth watering as Harry’s turgid cock sprang free from the confines of his trousers.
Hermione wanted Harry just as badly as he wanted her…even if it were for the last time. They had found comfort in each other during that dark time running and hiding. Sex was just an expression for a love they shared…but not a love that would ever bind them together in anything other than the deepest friendship. Or, that was what Hermione forced herself to think.
Harry stepped toward her, grasping one leg and wrapping it about his waist, lifting her so that her bare back slid against the old papered wall. Her other leg came next, and she held her breath.
“Two hours from now, will you wish me well, Hermione, or will you be thinking of this?”
At his last word, he dropped her, pressing her against the wall as his cock penetrated her tight core. He covered her mouth with his hand just before she screamed at the sudden fullness lodged so impossibly deep in her pussy. Her stifled scream made his balls tighten.
The scream passed, and Hermione’s head fell forward to rest on Harry’s robe-clad shoulder.
“I love you, Hermione,” he whispered into her ear, styled curls tickling his lips as he spoke.
She stiffened, but did not raise her face as Harry began to thrust into her body. All she could do was clench at his shoulders to keep from falling, holding her weight with her legs around Harry’s waist, and using the force of the wall pressing into her back to keep her upright.
Harry held her tight, breathlessly kissing her neck, his teeth snagging her right ear lobe.
“I love you…” he panted, his cock arching up into her, bouncing her so that her eyes raised and Harry was confronted with Hermione’s tortured face, tears threatening to fall.
Two hours…and Hermione would be totally alone. She was the only one of the Trio who had not found the one she loved. Harry was leaving her, even as he fucked her against the wall of Ron’s old bedroom. This was to be the last time, but at Harry’s words of love, and his desperate kiss, she wondered how long it would be before Harry would come to her again. Months, days after the wedding?
Somehow, as Harry whimpered into their kiss, his thrusts erratic, hot seed filling her, hot seed spilling upon his robes and the remnants of her bridesmaid dress, she knew it would be hours.