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Tenebrae Et Lux Ch. 1
🕑 Added 2023-04-12 01:50:02 +0000 UTCNotes: So, this story is a Commission for a wonderful Patron who wanted to read a Harry x Wednesday Addams Crossover. I loved the idea, and even if you don't know a lot about Wednesday, read the story. You'll love it. I am also open for Commissions. If you want me to write something, Comment, DM, or join my Discord Server! Commission Rules are also available through the Google Drive Link on my pinned post. Set in Post-War Hogwarts, Harry and Wednesday are the same age!
Content Warnings: Bondage, Anal, Spanking.
"Enter." Harry ran a frustrated hand through his messy black hair. While being the Head Boy came with many perks, it was also a position of responsibility he had not particularly wanted. When Hermione had talked him into returning to Hogwarts to finish their education, he had envisioned a relaxed year (his first one in the castle) where his only worries were homework and the upcoming NEWTs. Except, when Professor McGonagall had personally approached him in her position as the new Headmistress to take up the mantle of Head Boy, he had found it difficult to say no. Especially when she laid out the reasons. They all needed to heal and come together, and he and Hermione were in the best position to help the others do so. And thus it came to be that he sat in his new office that evening, working on the Prefect Patrol Schedule while overseeing detentions and trying his best not to think about the rager Seamus was throwing in the Gryffindor Common Room.
He looked up when the door opened, smiling at the sight of the slender raven-haired girl slipping inside the room. Wednesday Addams and her friend, Enid Sinclair were new transfers to Hogwarts and the same age as them, a rarity for the school which got most of its new arrivals as first years. However, the Headmistress had explained to him and Hermione that they had transferred from an American Magical School… he always forgot its name.
Nevermore, he thought, thinking back to his conversation with Professor McGonagall. They'd transferred from Nevermore for reasons the Headmistress had never quite made clear. She had simply assigned Hermione to Enid and him to Wednesday, asking them to help the two girls get settled in their new home. Which Harry tried. He had tried his damnedest to get the strange girl comfortable with her new surroundings in the Scottish highlands in the three months she had been his charge. The only problem was that she seemed to enjoy discomfort, whether it be her own or someone else's. And then there was the matter of the strange tension between them. He had always had a taste for snarky, fiery women, but no one had quite taken his breath away like Wednesday did. And he knew it was probably his own bias, but he could have sworn Wednesday was trying to figure out whether she wanted to ride him or stab him whenever they were together.
Knowing her, it was probably both. At the same time.
“The lack of chains and whips in this room is terribly distressing," Wednesday said flatly, sitting gracefully on one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Harry blinked, slowly peering up from the patrol schedule in front of him. The girl seated across his desk was unusual by several standards. It wasn’t even that he was unused to people like her, he counted Luna among his closest friends. But Wednesday Addams… oh, she was something else entirely. “Why… why would I have whips and chains in my office, Miss Addams?”
“Well, I have heard our delightful caretaker boast about his collection on several occasions and how he’d love to use them on us given the chance. Sadly, it seems he can enforce the rules, but other than the Professors, only you, the Head Girl, and the Prefects can oversee punishments. And given how often Miss Patil left her detention last month with a smile on her face and the tales I’ve heard from Luna, I thought it logical to presume that you believe in Mr. Filch’s wonderful ideas about corporal punishment.”
“W-what have you heard from Luna?” Harry asked, dreading the answer. His friend wasn’t exactly known for being discreet, and given how Rolf had already approached him to borrow his ‘special’ paddle, he had a very good idea where this conversation was going.
“The way you aided her recovery after her captivity in Malfoy Manor was quite admirable. I’m more than a little intrigued by the healing powers of your seed-”
“I… My…” Harry spluttered, clearing his throat awkwardly. “My… it has no healing powers, Miss Addams.”
“Did she not get better during your tryst in Shell Cottage?”
“I think that had more to do with actual healing potions-”
“Do you have any proof that your seed did not aid in her recovery?”
“Not exactly, no,” Harry mumbled, his cheeks burning.
“Then I see no reason to think her assertion that your cum helped her heal is wrong.”
It was her dark eyes, Harry decided. Unblinking. Unnerving. So utterly captivating. His cock stirred in his pants and he shushed it with a glare at his crotch before returning his attention to the new exchange student Hogwarts was hosting. She sat motionless in the chair, her back straight, studying him like he was a particularly interesting specimen and she wanted him in her collection.
“Why are we…” Harry dropped the question. He had no desire to talk about his cum with the girl, not when he couldn’t explain his strange attraction to her. “What exactly do you think happens in detentions with me, Miss Addams?”
“I had presumed I’d be chained, whipped. My body ravished in a way that would leave me feeling delightfully used and slinking back to my dormitory in shame.”
Harry thought her words would shock her. They didn’t.
It’s because you’ve been staring quite unashamedly at her for the past couple of months, his brain reminded him. Maybe we do want to tie her up and ravish her in a way that leaves her feeling delightfully used.
Shut up, he groused to himself. He’d been assigned to Wednesday to make her feel welcome in a place so far away from home, not to join a long line of suitors trying to score with the gorgeous goth girl. Not that any of them had had any luck. He still remembered her casually carving up a pig’s head while Justin stammered his way through a proposal. It had not ended well for the pompous Hufflepuff, who had fled the Great Hall with wet pants after Wednesday had shoved the knife into the table, inches from his hand.
“Miss Patil certainly paints a different tale.”
“Miss Patil likes to make up stories.”
“Then why did she leave every detention she served with you so happy?” If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn there was a slight accusatory edge to her voice.
His preoccupied mind missed the fact that Wednesday Addams had been assigned detention with him for a month for hexing Parvati Patil so that everything his fellow Gryffindor ate tasted only of rotten eggs.
Harry shrugged. “Because I let her write out the week’s gossip instead of the usual lines. Not exactly protocol, but it saved me the misery of hearing about the time Lavender showed Ron the wonders of a blowjob,” Harry muttered, shuddering slightly. “She was happy because she could just duplicate the parchment and get a gossip rag going.”
“So you do bend the rules when it suits you.”
“Why do you want me to spank you, Miss Addams?” Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“Is it not adequate punishment?”
“It’s not a punishment at all if you want it.”
“I’ll be in pain.”
“I think we both know you’d enjoy it.”
“As would you, when you're dishing it out,” Wednesday added simply. Luna, perhaps the only tolerable person in the castle other than Enid had told her a lot about her new captor in this hellhole of a school her parents had shipped her off to. At least he had pretty eyes. The color of pickled toads, she mused, staring at him. Luna had insisted he was kind and understanding. Wednesday failed to see it. If he truly was a paragon of those nauseating qualities, he’d have bent her over the table and given her what she wanted. “Are you saying you do not see me as a suitable sexual partner?”
“I’m saying the right time to explore our compatibility as sexual partners is after a date in Hogsmeade, not during a detention,” Harry murmured, smiling despite his best intentions.
Come on. She’s your type. Fiery oddball with a sharp tongue and deadly hexes.
Shut up, he hissed to himself.
“A date?”
“Yes. I’d buy you flowers and some chocolate, we could perhaps have some butterbeer in The Three Broomsticks? That sort of thing.”
Wednesday blinked. Her hand, amazingly enough, did not automatically reach for the cursed dagger hidden under her cloak. Which was strange, even to herself. She had threatened idiots with brutal dismemberment for suggesting far less.
“Very well. We’ll shelve this topic until after this detention.”
“Your detention hasn’t started yet, Miss Addams.”
“Is this talk of romance not part of my punishment? And to think Mr. Filch bemoans the school outlawing cruel punishments every day.”
“You think romance is a punishment?”
“Of the worst kind.”
Harry smiled. “And your opinion on chocolates?“
“A terribly inefficient form of nourishment.”
“Flowers?”
“I suppose it is pleasant watching them wither and wilt.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yet you think we are… compatible as sexual partners.”
“I think I would greatly enjoy being used by you, yes.”
“But you do not want me to romance you.”
Wednesday glared at Harry. “I thought you did not torture the students serving detention with you.”
“Miss Addams, come stand next to me.”
Wednesday gave him a cold, triumphant grin and flipped her pigtails over her shoulder. What she wanted, she got. And Harry Potter was no exception. She pushed her chair away from the desk and sauntered over to his side, fully expecting him to bend her over the desk and pull her arms behind her back to cuff her wrists so they could begin their night of magnificent depravity.
Instead, Harry turned. Given their height disparity, they were face to face even with him seated. He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against her soft, black ones, lingering for a second before pulling away.
He turned back in his chair, returning his attention to the Prefect’s Patrol Schedule in front of him. “Thank you, Miss Addams. That’ll be all for tonight. I expect you to be here right at nine p.m. sharp for your detention tomorrow and every other day for a month.”
Wednesday stared at him in shock, her fingers lingering over her lips, the ghostly sensation of his lips still lingering on them. A part of her wanted to pull out her knife and stab the idiot for his insolence, but another small, not-so-quiet part of her suddenly wondered what an entire hour of this ‘punishment’ would look like. Her fingers shifted to her warm cheeks, her blush only growing when she realized she was, in fact, blushing.
A man, a stupid, idiotic, gorgeous man had the temerity to kiss her… and she liked it.
“Goodnight, Mr. Potter,” she muttered coldly, grabbing her bag and stomping out of the room before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
---
29 Days Later:
Wednesday stomped up the stairs and flung open the door to her dormitory, making her way to her bed and diving right into the soft mattress.
“I take it it was another torturous detention?” Enid asked sympathetically, casually flipping through the latest issue of Witch Weekly.
“He noticed I was under the weather with a head cold and had skipped dinner, so he brought some up to his office,” Wednesday muttered, moodily poking a doll (which bore a suspicious resemblance to a certain blonde Slytherin) with pins. “There were vanilla-scented candles, Enid. Delicious hot pumpkin soup that soothed my sore sinuses.”
“The man’s taking care of you while you’re sick. The horror.” Enid rolled her eyes.
“Exactly. The care and comfort he provides are nauseating. And he still insists on kissing me every night," Wednesday muttered, completely missing her friend's sarcasm. "I have one detention left to get what I want from him."
Enid did not question why Wednesday simply hadn’t asked Harry Potter to stop kissing her. He didn’t seem like the type to violate someone’s consent, and Wednesday was definitely not the type to tolerate something of that nature. "You could always land yourself in detention once more. I heard Nott talking shit about werewolves last night. We could go pay him a visit."
"As delightful as that sounds, it does not solve my problem. I might not be assigned to him again."
"Maybe it's time to fold. Just let him take you to Hogsmeade. Tell him to book a room in the pub there."
Wednesday turned and glared at her best friend. "You're just as bad as Mother. I asked her to send Thing over with my collection of poisons and she and Father are instead coming to take me and Harry to dinner at the Ritz in London. She thinks a little romance would be good for me," Wednesday grumbled.
"Does Harry know?" Enid quirked an eyebrow.
"I will not give him the joy of knowing my parents approve of him." Wednesday flopped back into her mountain of dark purple pillows and resumed sticking pins into the doll in her hand. "Nor will I give him the satisfaction of winning. He will use my body tomorrow."
"Orrrrr… you could just tell him you have feelings for him," Enid suggested.
"The very idea of romance nauseates me. I have a plan for tomorrow. It will work."
"Did you have a vision?" Enid asked, suddenly curious.
Wednesday stayed silent.
"What'd you see?"
For the first time since they became best friends, Wednesday lied. "Nothing," she muttered, turning and burying her head under a pillow. "Goodnight, Enid."
She had seen something, and it had terrified her. She saw a wonderfully drab and eerie house that Harry turned into a home for them. She saw two absolute terrors as their children, and a happy life.
---
“Miss Sinclair.” Harry smiled at the peppy blonde who stood in the open doorway of his office. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Do you mind making it quick? Peeves stuffed the entirety of Greenhouse Three with unicorn dung.”
“So unicorns don’t really poop rainbows?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“My whole life has been a lie,” Enid said, pretending to be distraught. “Anyways, I’ve come to give you this.” Enid passed Harry a rolled-up sheet of parchment. “Don’t… Open it when you’re alone,” she advised.
“What are they?”
“Wednesday’s drawings of you. Some of them, it’s just you… while in others, she’s bound and bent over your desk while you sensually explore her body with a riding crop… point is, you didn’t get these from me.”
“Where would I have gotten them?”
“You found them… in a hallway?” Enid suggested.
“How… why are you giving them to me?”
“Because after everything that has happened over the last three years, my best friend deserves happiness. You have the potential to make her happy if you stop torturing her.”
“I’m not torturing her,” Harry said softly. “We’re just having fun.”
“Is that what it is?” Enid challenged. “All I see is two stubborn mules desperately digging in because they’re terrified that for once in their life, they’ll actually be happy! Why can’t you just meet her halfway?” Enid raised a finger to silence Harry when he tried to speak. “I know my best friend is prickly, unlikeable, and an utter pain in the ass on the surface, but you’d be so lucky to have her in your life. And I think you know it too, or I wouldn’t hear your heart hammer in your chest every time you’re around her.”
“I-”
“Give her something to work with. She needs to know that loving you won’t mean losing herself. That’s… that’s all I came to say. Take a look at the drawings. They’re some of her best work to date.” Enid gave him a small smile and waved, shutting the door behind her on her way out.
---
"Enter," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, smiling as Wednesday slipped inside and made her way to her usual seat.
"You don't need to sit tonight, Miss Addams," Harry murmured, leaning back in his chair.
Wednesday dumped her satchel in the chair and raised an eyebrow. Was it to be a kiss and a quick dismissal? If that was the case, she needed to speed up her plan. She walked over to the cloakstand by the door and pulled her cloak over her head, hanging it before turning to Harry with a sly smile.
Harry was staring at her with wide eyes, enraptured by her slender figure. She wore a sheer black lace corset under her cloak. While the garment extended from her chest to her thighs, it covered absolutely nothing. If anything, the thin lace somehow only served to highlight her nakedness. Her brown nipples pebbled in the cold air and poked against the embroidered fabric. She had completed the look with fishnet stockings and blood-red stilettos, the perfect tools to accentuate her long legs and slender frame. She crossed her arms in front of her to push out her modest bust and stood in front of his desk, waiting for the object of her attention to regain his senses. Her hair was arranged in her customary two pigtails, a few strands of sleek raven hair framing her unnaturally pale face. His cock twitched as his eyes traveled from her full, black lips to her dark eyes, framed by perfectly applied winged mascara.
"Miss… Miss…" Harry stammered hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry. "Miss Addams, what are you wearing?"
"You never mandated a dress code for detention, sir. What is to be my punishment tonight?" Wednesday asked, her dark eyes alive with mirth.
“Come here,” Harry growled, his manhood throbbing uncomfortably in his pants. He had a problem. Her name was Wednesday Addams.
Wednesday quirked an eyebrow but followed his instructions, resolving to stab the stubborn man with his own quill if he still dismissed her with a quick kiss.
Harry stood, towering over her slender frame. Before she could react he had grabbed her shoulder and flipped her around, pushing her down on his desk with a quiet grunt. A hand stayed flat on her back, keeping her bent over his desk while the other moved to grab his wand.
Wednesday’s eyes widened for a second before her lips curved into a triumphant grin, the girl savoring in the sweet taste of victory. She had broken Harry Potter, and all it had taken were some silly pieces of lace.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, Miss Addams,” Harry growled, kicking her legs apart.
“Have I?” Wednesday feigned innocence. She arched her back, raising her ass in the air for him and causing the frilly short skirt attached to her corset to ride up to reveal her pert, round cheeks and the obvious abscence of underwear. “All I did was teach a girl the consequences of opening her mouth without thinking.”
“And here I am, teaching you the consequences of your actions.” Harry rolled up the skirt completely, taking a second to admire her ass. The flawless porcelain skin of her firm ass was on full display and his eyes roved over the dark green veins crisscrossing her pale skin. “The circle of life.”
Harry waved his wand, conjuring rough hemp ropes that wrapped around the legs of his desk before lashing around her ankles tightly, securing her legs in place. Even the slightest of movements caused the material to rub against her soft skin, and Wednesday knew she’d be waking up with raw, stinging skin. A trickle of arousal leaked out of her pussy, slowly snaking down her slender leg.
“Hands,” Harry ordered.
Wednesday obeyed without hesitation, pulling her arms behind her back to let him secure her wrists together with another piece of the rough rope. She wasn’t interested in fighting him anymore. She had him. She’d won. And half the fun was in enjoying the consequences of her victory.
“I’m going to spank you now, Miss Addams. You’ll count them out. For every one you miss, I’ll add one to the final count.”
“Yes, sir,” Wednesday whispered, shivering in excitement.
“What’s your safe word?”
Wednesday admired his wholly unnecessary concern about her physical and mental well-being. It was almost like he cared about her as a person. A truly terrifying thought, if there ever was one. “Murder,” she said after a minute of silence, deciding to follow Enid’s advice and meet the man halfway. If he wanted a safe word, they’d have one.
“Alright then,” Harry chuckled, his large hands gently massaging her tiny ass. Her round cheeks fit perfectly in his hands and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were made for each other. That this… whatever they had… was meant to be.
Harry pulled his left hand away from her cheek, dipping his fingers into the open pot of lube he had already kept ready on his desk. His index finger slowly circled his lover’s most intimate of holes even as he continued to massage her cheeks with his right hand.
Wednesday’s eyes widened in shock when he pushed the tip of his index finger into her tight, puckered hole. An embarrassingly wanton moan escaped her lips when he added another finger and scissored them, forcing her sphincter to relax. “S-sir?” she whispered, a delicious burn settling into her core as his fingers probed her virgin ass.
“You said your body was mine to use, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Wednesday breathed, groaning in desperation as her walls stretched to accommodate his calloused digits.
“Then I decide what I’m going to use, and when I’m going to use it,” Harry said coldly. “You haven’t earned the privilege of me using your pussy just yet, Miss Addams.”
“Understood, sir,” Wednesday mumbled, smiling into the polished wood of his desk. He wanted to make it a game, did he? Oh, she did quite love prey that fought back.
SMACK!
“Oh!” Wednesday groaned, her eyes flying open in shock. The hard slap, landing right in the middle of her firm ass, had been entirely unexpected. His fingers were still pushing deeper, claiming her hole even as she was being punished.
“Count,” Harry growled, admiring the way his bright pink handprint contrasted perfectly against her pale skin.
“One,” Wednesday panted. The petals guarding her womanhood were utterly soaked, thin trickles of arousal seeping out from between them and flowing down her thighs.
Harry silently pulled his hand away, bringing his palm down on her bum two times in quick succession.
SMACK! SMACK!
“Two. Three!” Wednesday squealed, her attention torn between the dull and pleasant ache in her belly caused by the fingers stretching out her walls and the fiery stinging of her now bright pink right asscheek.
“What are you, Miss Addams?” Harry slowly pulled his fingers out of her, her walls clamping around the slick digits in an attempt to prevent them from leaving.
“Half a dozen psychologists have tried to answer that,” Wednesday answered cheekily, determined not to give him the satisfaction of the answer he wanted to hear. “They all failed.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Four. Five! Six!” She was panting by the last slap, her chest heaving against the desk. His left palm had landed on her left asscheek with just as much force as the right, both cheeks now a bright pink as they turned into flashpoints of oh-so delicious pain.
Wednesday tried to push her thighs together, to give her needy womanhood the friction it so desperately needed. Her efforts were futile, her ankles straining against the ropes that secured them to the desk uselessly.
“You planned this, didn’t you?”
Harry didn’t bother with a verbal reply.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Seven. Eight. NINE!” Wednesday screamed the last number, her entire body jolting forward on the table as Harry’s palm made contact with her pussy.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry murmured, studying his glistening palm with a smirk. “You know, a punishment isn’t supposed to arouse you, my murderous little painslut,” Harry whispered, molding his body against hers as he bent to kiss her cheek.
“You need to get your eyesight checked, Mr. Potter. I’m not aroused. How can I be? I’m being punished, after all,” Wednesday teased, a lone tear leaking out of the corner of her eye.
“Well, then you wouldn’t mind cleaning this strange liquid on my hand, would you? I don’t spank with a messy palm.” Harry held his hand in front of her. It was coated with her pussy juices, its aroma filling the air around them.
Wednesday stared at him in disbelief but when he didn’t move his hand, she slowly leaned forward and kissed his palm. Her tongue traced lines over his rough, calloused skin, lapping up her own arousal. The utter humiliation of the act caused the trickle seeping out of her pussy to turn into a veritable flood.
“Good girl.” Harry pulled away, landing a spank to her pussy without warning.
SMACK!
“Ten!” Wednesday moaned, her toes curling.
“Oh, my. I seem to have made a mess again,” he murmured, holding out his hand in front of her. Wednesday bit her lower lip, her legs subconsciously straining against their binds. All her body wanted was a little friction and that was exactly what she was to be denied. She leaned forward and began to lick him clean, watching him rummage in the top drawer of his desk from the corner of her eye. He pulled away once she had lapped up all her cum and she took the reprieve to collect herself.
“What are you, Miss Addams?” Harry asked, slowly running the leather bit of the riding crop along the curve of her ass.
Wednesday’s eyes widened. How did he know? There was no way for him to know. Unless…
She was going to kill-
SMACK!
His fingers pushed into her tight ass at the exact same moment the leather bit made contact with her pussy. Wednesday’s usually overactive mind went silent. All thoughts racing through her head disappeared, replaced by a singular focus on the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain radiating from her ass.
“Eleven,” Wednesday sobbed, arching her back as much as possible to draw his fingers deeper into her ass. She shuddered as he ran the crop down her back, tracing her spine with its bit.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Twelve… Thirteen… Fourteen!” Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, her lips curled into a blissful smile. The blows had landed on her reddening ass and her throbbing pussy, every strike creating a flashpoint of perfect stinging.
Never in all her years… Harry spanked her like she was his. Like he had every right to punish her. Like he had claim to so much more than her ass…
“Need to tap out?” Harry asked, lazily fingering her ass. Her walls stretched around the two digits and she could only imagine how his cock would feel, thrusting past the resistance and plunging deep into her belly. She wanted him. She needed him.
“Never,” Wednesday growled, raising her red ass high in the air for him.
SMACK! SMACK!
“What do you want, Miss Addams?”
Could he read minds?!
“Fifteen. Sixteen,” Wednesday wheezed, panting and squirming helplessly on the desk. “I-”
Harry shifted his attention to her thighs.
SMACK! SMACK!
“Seventeen! Eighteen! Please!” she begged, finally unable to help herself.
“Please what? What do you want, Miss Addams?” Harry repeated, plunging his fingers deep into her ass and scissoring them.
“You,” Wednesday whispered hoarsely, finally breaking.
SMACK! SMACK!
The last two blows landed straight on her pussy and Wednesday blacked out as she came. She squirted, her cum soaking her thighs and stockings, big drops drenching Harry’s dark pants.
Harry took a minute to compose himself, pulling his fingers out of her and replacing the crop back in his drawer. His cock twitched at the sight of her beautiful smile, and the thick black trails of mascara running down her cheeks. “I want you too,” he whispered, gently caressing her cheek.
When Wednesday regained consciousness Harry was helping her up from the table. Her body betrayed her instincts to decline his help and she leaned into him, craving his warmth and comfort.
“Now what?” Wednesday asked brusquely, letting him untie her hands. She flexed her sore wrists, keeping her cheek against the cool wood of his desk as he worked to free her legs.
“Cuddles while I work on next week’s patrol schedule?” Harry suggested, gently pulling the petite girl into his arms. He slumped into his comfortable chair, trying to ignore the massive tent poking through his pants.
Wednesday decided to do the exact opposite. She grinned and turned her attention to the rock-hard shaft poking her sore bum. “You get to hold me for five minutes before pushing me under your desk.”
“And what’ll you do there?” Harry asked, wrapping his arms around her slender body. She rested her head on his firm chest, struggling to stay conscious as his steady heartbeat lulled her to sleep.
“Suck, choke, and gag,” Wednesday answered carelessly. “While you ensure Nott gets patrol duty from Midnight to Dawn everyday.”
Harry shivered. Something told him there would be no concentrating on his work if Wednesday had her pretty lips wrapped around his cock. “What did Nott ever do to you?” he asked, clearing his suddenly dry throat.
“His presence annoys me,” Wednesday deflected.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Ten.”
“Fifteen, then you can give me head under the table if you want.”
“That is… acceptable,” Wednesday mumbled, trying her damnedest to fight against her ever increasing comfort. Why did his lap have to be so snug and warm?
Harry picked up his wand and conjured smoke, the gray particles twisting into a timer that began to count down from fifteen in the air.
Wednesday stared at it for a second before nodding. She burrowed deeper inside him, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his broad body.
Harry pulled his chair back towards his desk and picked up his quill, getting back to the schedule he had been working on before her arrival. Between the feel of her curves pressing against him and his throbbing manhood work was impossible, and he set down his quill, settling back in his chair in favor of staring up at the timer slowly ticking down to zero.
The wisps dissipated once the fifteen minutes ran out and Harry bent his head, his lips gently brushing against her hair. “Wednesday?” he murmured, his finger caressing her tear and mascara-stained cheek.
But Wednesday was fast asleep, and the only answer he received was her snuggling deeper into his chest.
Notes:
God, I love writing Wednesday Addams. I am going to enjoy writing more chapters for this story. Speaking of which, you can also commission extra chapters of this story as long as your kink requests don't conflict with the original Patrons' limits!
Comments
Erinnyes
This is super fun. You've absolutely nailed Wednesday's character and haven't held back on her negative attributes while also not making her unlikable. That's a tricky line to run, and you did it well.
I am lord dems
Nice nice really like this pairing . I think he should take her down to the chamber of secrets show her the basilisk corpse and then tell her about his school adventures
