100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,662
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,662
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.
Storm
Title: Storm
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
Warnings: M/M/F, M/M, Voyeur, Dom
Summary: #70 – Storm. The were a unit.
Word Count: words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 70 – Storm
Lightning would flash, and she would count the seconds until thunder would sound.
Ten seconds.
The storm was raging, and on Ron’s bed, limbs and lips were tangling. With every groan, thunder would roll, and with every fifth or sixth deep thrust of hips, lightning would flash. Hermione watched from a chair near the door.
Summer storms, winter blizzards, spring cloudbursts, and autumn rains, it was always the same. They came together in different combinations, but the result was always the same. When the storm would clear, they would be sated. Summer, in her opinion, was the best for storms.
Ron’s voice rang out in his bedroom at the Burrow, but Hermione knew no one but the three of them were in the house. It was a rare treat to have the majority of the Weasley family gone for the night. Ginny was visiting Luna for the weekend in Norway, Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Bill and Fleur, and Ron had stayed behind with her and Harry, claiming that the ‘Trio’ needed some time. It was an easy explanation to the Weasleys. Despite Harry’s marriage, and Hermione’s job, and Ron’s job, no one got between them when they wanted to come together. They were a unit.
Hermione licked her lips as a flash of lightning through the window gave her a glimpse of Harry’s slim hips jerking forward, long cock sinking past pale, muscular buttocks. Ron was gripping one of the pillows, his flushed face turned toward her, eyes nearly shut. Harry’s gasps and moans were melodic as was the damp, sweaty slapping sound of skin against skin.
This storm had Ron feeling submissive, Harry dominant, and Hermione, still in her suit jacket and skirt, feeling delightfully voyeuristic. Uncrossing her legs, she trailed a hand up her shin to her knee and past the hem of her skirt.
“Fuck him harder,” she whispered evenly as the wind whipped against the ramshackle siding of the Burrow.
Lightning flashed again, and Harry’s emerald eyes glowed momentarily, looking at her and how she wriggled out of her knickers. A sharp thrust made Ron grunt louder, his shaggy red head lifting from the pillow to throw back, his palms slamming into the wall above the foot of the bed. Harry snarled, fingers weaving through his hair, deepening the angle of penetration.
A particularly close bolt of lightning shook the entire house and Hermione bunched up her skirt about her hips, leaning back into the chair and spread her thighs. She sighed as her fingertips touched her wet folds, and traced them languidly.
Ron began thrusting back, and in the near darkness and sudden flashes, Hermione could see his erect cock and heavy sac swaying and brushing the sheets under him. A sticky trail of pre-cum was pulled and broken with every sway, and Hermione licked her lips, knowing that her ginger haired friend was close.
As if on cue, Ron’s back arched in time with a strobe like flash of lightening, and thick ejaculate sprayed the bed under his knees. Hermione groaned softly, Harry pulling on Ron’s hair to bend his back further, licking at his face, biting at his lips. When Ron fell to the bed, limp and spent, Harry sighed and pulled away, his cock spring upward and back as he sat on the bed.
“Wand.”
It was all Harry had to say to Ron to break him from his post orgasmic haze. Reaching toward the low table by the bed, Ron grasped his wand, and twisting with a wince, sat in his own cum, wearily casting Cleaning Charms on himself and Harry who was staring at Hermione’s parted thighs.
Rain began to pelt the window as the wind shifted, adding an ambient hum around the room. The wind howled, and Hermione wondered for a moment how long the storm would last.
Harry began stroking his cock as Ron Vanished the ejaculate on the bed, rolling on his side so his back was to Hermione, the pale expanse reddened by the marks Harry left with his hands and fingernails. With only a glance from emerald eyes, sans spectacles, Hermione knew what Harry wanted.
Only ever, when it stormed and raged did Harry get what he could not have.
Hermione rose, unzipping the side of her skirt and let it fall to the floor. The rest of her clothing was shed as she moved to the narrow bed, far too small for three people. Harry rested his back against the wall as she crawled over his bare legs, sitting on his knees, to take his cock in her hand. Ron watched them sleepily, but already, Hermione could see out the corner of her eye that his cock was reviving.
“Who’s who, this time?” Hermione asked in a whisper, glancing to her two best friends, one to the other.
Another flash and both men grinned. “You are our favourite to be the middle, luv,” Ron said softly, rising off the bed to kiss her bare right shoulder and grasp her breast roughly.
Harry chuckled, rubbing the head of his cock into her belly. Hermione smirked. “I rather like having Harry in the middle.”
Hermione loved the fact they could be lewd in their few moments. Life, their lives, did not matter when they were together, closeted away from a storm. Harry was not a husband, Hermione was not a Ministry official, Ron was not an Auror, and there was no room for outside worries.
“Enough talking,” Harry growled impatiently, abandoning his cock and grabbing Hermione’s hips. “I’ve been waiting two months for this…”
The storm raged on and on, their voices lost on the thunder and wind, and each wondered when the next bit of bad weather would be…
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
Warnings: M/M/F, M/M, Voyeur, Dom
Summary: #70 – Storm. The were a unit.
Word Count: words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 70 – Storm
Lightning would flash, and she would count the seconds until thunder would sound.
Ten seconds.
The storm was raging, and on Ron’s bed, limbs and lips were tangling. With every groan, thunder would roll, and with every fifth or sixth deep thrust of hips, lightning would flash. Hermione watched from a chair near the door.
Summer storms, winter blizzards, spring cloudbursts, and autumn rains, it was always the same. They came together in different combinations, but the result was always the same. When the storm would clear, they would be sated. Summer, in her opinion, was the best for storms.
Ron’s voice rang out in his bedroom at the Burrow, but Hermione knew no one but the three of them were in the house. It was a rare treat to have the majority of the Weasley family gone for the night. Ginny was visiting Luna for the weekend in Norway, Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Bill and Fleur, and Ron had stayed behind with her and Harry, claiming that the ‘Trio’ needed some time. It was an easy explanation to the Weasleys. Despite Harry’s marriage, and Hermione’s job, and Ron’s job, no one got between them when they wanted to come together. They were a unit.
Hermione licked her lips as a flash of lightning through the window gave her a glimpse of Harry’s slim hips jerking forward, long cock sinking past pale, muscular buttocks. Ron was gripping one of the pillows, his flushed face turned toward her, eyes nearly shut. Harry’s gasps and moans were melodic as was the damp, sweaty slapping sound of skin against skin.
This storm had Ron feeling submissive, Harry dominant, and Hermione, still in her suit jacket and skirt, feeling delightfully voyeuristic. Uncrossing her legs, she trailed a hand up her shin to her knee and past the hem of her skirt.
“Fuck him harder,” she whispered evenly as the wind whipped against the ramshackle siding of the Burrow.
Lightning flashed again, and Harry’s emerald eyes glowed momentarily, looking at her and how she wriggled out of her knickers. A sharp thrust made Ron grunt louder, his shaggy red head lifting from the pillow to throw back, his palms slamming into the wall above the foot of the bed. Harry snarled, fingers weaving through his hair, deepening the angle of penetration.
A particularly close bolt of lightning shook the entire house and Hermione bunched up her skirt about her hips, leaning back into the chair and spread her thighs. She sighed as her fingertips touched her wet folds, and traced them languidly.
Ron began thrusting back, and in the near darkness and sudden flashes, Hermione could see his erect cock and heavy sac swaying and brushing the sheets under him. A sticky trail of pre-cum was pulled and broken with every sway, and Hermione licked her lips, knowing that her ginger haired friend was close.
As if on cue, Ron’s back arched in time with a strobe like flash of lightening, and thick ejaculate sprayed the bed under his knees. Hermione groaned softly, Harry pulling on Ron’s hair to bend his back further, licking at his face, biting at his lips. When Ron fell to the bed, limp and spent, Harry sighed and pulled away, his cock spring upward and back as he sat on the bed.
“Wand.”
It was all Harry had to say to Ron to break him from his post orgasmic haze. Reaching toward the low table by the bed, Ron grasped his wand, and twisting with a wince, sat in his own cum, wearily casting Cleaning Charms on himself and Harry who was staring at Hermione’s parted thighs.
Rain began to pelt the window as the wind shifted, adding an ambient hum around the room. The wind howled, and Hermione wondered for a moment how long the storm would last.
Harry began stroking his cock as Ron Vanished the ejaculate on the bed, rolling on his side so his back was to Hermione, the pale expanse reddened by the marks Harry left with his hands and fingernails. With only a glance from emerald eyes, sans spectacles, Hermione knew what Harry wanted.
Only ever, when it stormed and raged did Harry get what he could not have.
Hermione rose, unzipping the side of her skirt and let it fall to the floor. The rest of her clothing was shed as she moved to the narrow bed, far too small for three people. Harry rested his back against the wall as she crawled over his bare legs, sitting on his knees, to take his cock in her hand. Ron watched them sleepily, but already, Hermione could see out the corner of her eye that his cock was reviving.
“Who’s who, this time?” Hermione asked in a whisper, glancing to her two best friends, one to the other.
Another flash and both men grinned. “You are our favourite to be the middle, luv,” Ron said softly, rising off the bed to kiss her bare right shoulder and grasp her breast roughly.
Harry chuckled, rubbing the head of his cock into her belly. Hermione smirked. “I rather like having Harry in the middle.”
Hermione loved the fact they could be lewd in their few moments. Life, their lives, did not matter when they were together, closeted away from a storm. Harry was not a husband, Hermione was not a Ministry official, Ron was not an Auror, and there was no room for outside worries.
“Enough talking,” Harry growled impatiently, abandoning his cock and grabbing Hermione’s hips. “I’ve been waiting two months for this…”
The storm raged on and on, their voices lost on the thunder and wind, and each wondered when the next bit of bad weather would be…