A/N: Warning! Smut and semidark.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own any of this, but thanks to Nine Inch Nails for making the song Closer, which is what this is based upon.
He forced her face up to look at him straight in the eye. He could see the tears pooling in her eyes, refusing to spill over. She urged him on with her hands, pressing him even more intensely against her.
You let me violate you
Her eyes were smeared with black eyeliner and mascara. Her lips were red and swollen from his previous assault on them. Forcefully he shoved her against the wall of the bathroom stall. He had kissed her so harshly his teeth ached. She had whimpered at the initial collision but was becoming more aggressive with each minute that passed.
You let me desecrate you
He quickly tore her shirt off and ran his hands over every centimeter of her torso while viciously biting and kissing her neck. He was determined to leave his mark upon her. He didn't feel bad; she seemed to be rather enjoying his painful treatment of her sensitive areas.
You let me penetrate you
He released her for a moment to unzip his trousers and release his throbbing member. She tried to reach for it, but he swatted her hand away. He wasn't here for foreplay and niceties. He quickly had her pinned against the wall again, and he pushed her skirt around her abdomen. She never wore knickers, making their encounter a little less difficult and a little more shameful. Quickly he adjusted her to the perfect height to meet his cock. With all his might, he slammed her down onto him with a sharp gasp; she permitted a tiny cry to escape from her lips to ease the discomfort of the impact.
You let me complicate you
He knew this was wrong. He knew it was completely and utterly unhealthy. Sick and twisted, some might say. But he knew she needed this just as much as he did. It had, after all, become a bit of a habit. Well, more like an addiction.
The war had jaded them both, and life just wouldn't go back to the way it was before. She'd lost her one of her best friends and both her parents all within a week. He'd watched Voldemort torture his mother to death after having a routine Cruciatus dosage for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for more days than he could count. The real icing on the cake was the fact that his own father administered this daily regimen.
Help me, I broke apart my insides
He fell into a rhythm of violent thrusts. She met each one by positioning her hips so as to allow maximum penetration. He could feel her fingernails drawing blood from his shoulder blades, and he bit down on her neck.
Help me I've got no soul to tell
He'd certainly be going to hell for this, if he hadn't already sealed his place there. But he needed her. No one understood what he needed like she did. Most of his old friends… or minions really, had fallen in the war. It was rather ironic that he had sought relief in the enemy.
Help me the only thing that works for me
He didn't think he'd be able to keep walking through his miserable excuse of a life without this release. He needed this. He needed to explode inside of her.
Help me get away from myself
He couldn't stand to look at himself in the mirror. The sight of his face disgusted him. He couldn't bear to remember the things he'd done to his friends. It was even worse to think about the things he'd done to his enemies.
I want to fuck you like an animal
He could feel her walls tightening, and he knew she was close. He remembered the look on her face when she walked into the pub earlier; he could sense her twisted desire from all the way across the room.
I want to feel you from the inside
His thrusts became relentless as she peaked, shuddering violently. He could feel her juices covering his cock, making his ascent inside of her slicker.
I want to fuck you like an animal
Within seconds he was spurting his seed into the depths of her and burying his face in between her breasts. His lungs were heaving uncontrollably as pure pleasure washed over him, causing him to forget himself for a split second.
My whole existence is flawed
He withdrew himself from her and cast a quick Scourgify over each of them. She hastily mended her shirt, dressed herself, and walked out of the stall to fix her disheveled hair, while he adjusted his pants and collected himself. With nothing more than a look, they both walked back into the pub. He sat down and ordered a drink, and she continued her stride straight out the door.
You get me closer to god