40 Results with the "Smut" genre
Definition: Heavily centered around explicit sexual content, with a primary focus on physical gratification rather than emotional or romantic development. Typically features detailed, graphic sexual scenes, catering to various fantasies and desires.
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Chapter 5: Just the Beginning
Harry woke up tangled between soft limbs and warm skin. Lavender was curled against his chest, tits pressed to his side. Katie’s leg was slung over his hip, her breath slow and even. The room smelled like sex. He stayed there for a second, just letting it sit. Then he eased out of their hold, careful not to wake them, and stood. The hallway was dead quiet. Harry’s body felt wrecked in the best way. Last night hadn’t ended with a blowjob. Katie bent over, took his cock in her ass, and begged for…-
30.6 K • Ongoing
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Summer of ’98 (Harry/Daphne)
The café was called Brewer's, and it served the worst coffee in South London. Harry had tried every item on the menu in his first week, working through them with the grim determination of a man who had nowhere else to be, and had concluded that the filter coffee was merely bad while the espresso was actively hostile. The tea was fine, but that was because tea was difficult to ruin if you had a kettle and a box of PG Tips, and even Brewer's could manage that. He ordered a pot every morning, sat at the…-
62.3 K • Ongoing
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Chapter 1
The end-of-year feast in the Great Hall was as lively as ever, the air thick with the sound of clinking goblets, laughter, and the occasional explosion from Fred and George’s corner. Harry barely noticed. His plate of treacle tart sat untouched as his mind wandered back to the events of the past year. The Triwizard Tournament had left its mark especially the second task. “Harry,” Hermione’s voice broke through his thoughts, “why’s that owl staring at you?” Harry blinked. A sleek,…-
14.2 K • Completed
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The Best Mistake (Harry/Daphne)
The corridor smelled like candied pineapple. Harry tried breathing through his mouth while Slughorn’s hand thumped down on his shoulder. “Now, Harry, my boy, the Christmas party!” Slughorn’s mustache quivered. “Have you given thought to your guest? Young Miss Belby has been asking. Miss Macmillan is lovely, very well connected…” Harry glanced down the hall where Ron was waiting. “Right. Yeah. I’ll be there, Professor.” “Splendid! But your companion is so important. Young…-
62.3 K • Ongoing
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Liquid Luck (Harry/Fleur)
"Harry! I hope I am not interrupting." Fleur Delacour, or Fleur Weasley as she was technically called these days, was standing on the front step of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, holding a leather folio in one hand and looking like she'd just stepped off the cover of a magazine. Which was unfair, really, because it was half seven on a Thursday evening and Harry was wearing joggers with a hole in the knee and had pasta sauce on his shirt. "Not at all," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Bill…-
62.3 K • Ongoing
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