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mildlunacyWhy do I write these things..?? Why, why, why...?
Is it because I care..? Is it because there can never be enough H/D porn...? Is it because I simply have too much time to waste...??
Sigh. Oh well, more porn it is, then. Woe. Woe indeed.
Disclaimer: ahahahah I wonder what JKR would say, if. Let's just not find out. Good thing this whole thing is hers, eh? Well, except for the porn.
Author's note: Hello, fandom. More H/D mouth porn from moi.
- minute man -
There were no words for this.
(what is he doing?!)
Harry's mind spun in tiny circles; he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink. His thoughts ran over each other, tumbling, whirling, disorganized and frantic.
(don't look-- movemovemovemove-- can't look-- what the-- Malfoy-- what is he trying to-- God-- no-- no!-- bloody hell, how can--!)
Merely seconds ago, Malfoy had been flipping him off. That was all it was. Harry barely lifted an eyebrow, pretty close to chuckling at the other's frustrated little gesture. He'd caught it unexpectedly, but there was no doubt about Malfoy's target, feeling the vicious glare boring into him. The one-time Prince of Slytherin, resorting to staring contests. It was... funny.
And that's when it happened.
The complete and utter death of any and all humor Harry could imagine experiencing in the near future. The smirk shriveled on his mouth almost before it formed, and he'd gasped wetly before he even knew what he saw.
(yessssss)
His mind was still catching up, but his blood knew exactly how fast it intended to drain into his lap within two heartbeats.
Harry's eyes had bugged out as far as they would go, and his fork clattered to the table. Suddenly, it was as if all the rest of the riotous Gryffindors around him had disappeared. He couldn't turn away. He couldn't see anything but the impossibly filthy-- wrong-- disgusting--
(so hot-- oh-- Malfoy was-- he was-- no!-- no)
Slowly, Malfoy was drawing his index finger into his (glistening, open, wet) mouth. Sucking. He was sucking on it. He was looking straight at Harry, and sucking on that single bloody thin, pale finger. It popped in and out in some sort of rhythm, disappearing entirely between those pursed pink lips.
Harry's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table.
He thought he might be going insane, because this couldn't possibly be happening to him. Except it was.
He thought he might come in his trousers any second.
(can't-- touch-- oh god, he's so-- no! nononono-- ohhhh-- no, stop, have to stop)
And Malfoy was still doing... that.
(--fuckable--)
In and out, in and out, and Harry caught himself about to lift his own finger to his mouth....
(so red, how can a mouth look like-- open wider, come on-- fuck-- wanna see you dripping-- choking-- on me-- fuck)
Ron and Hermione were arguing again, and even if he could've found the basic mental capacity to get their attention, what would he say? How could he say it? ("Make him stop, God I'm about to come, make it STOP!") Why didn't anyone notice?!
Harry's eyes were just about rolling back in his head and he breathed like he was running a sprint race, and why was no one asking, why was no one stopping--
Malfoy was-- he was fucking his own mouth right in front of them!
(does he want-- don't care don'tcare-- ohgodyes)
Distantly, Harry realized that barely a minute had passed since the start, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing could penetrate the roiling fog inside his head.
(want to tear you open-- just-- do it down your throat-- all the way-- god)
Harry was shaking visibly now, squirming on the bench, seconds from orgasm and unable to do a thing. He couldn't stop this, couldn't break the spell, and Malfoy-- Malfoy knew-- Harry knew he knew, and the anger choked him.
(FUCK YOU!)
And maybe-- maybe Malfoy wanted that, wanted to humiliate him, use him, control him, and-- a part of him didn't care.
Somehow, for the first time in his memory, no one was looking at Malfoy but Harry. Perversely, impossibly, they were the only two people in the Hall; possibly in all of Hogwarts.
(more-- please-- more)
It didn't matter anymore. All the bustling Housemates surrounding him, their location, Harry's hatred, the need to hurt the other boy for this-- none of it mattered; Harry just wanted to come, and now--
And no one saw. That was the only possible explanation, because Malfoy kept on doing it. And Harry kept on getting redder, hotter, and now he could only breathe through his mouth.
He was burning in place. He needed release. He'd even ask if he could move or force his mouth to shape actual syllables. He'd ask Malfoy for something at this moment.
(PLEASE)
Harry's palms were sweating, and his heart appeared to have permanently moved to his mouth. He had to keep swallowing, that was all he knew. He had more spit suddenly flooding his mouth than he knew what to do with, and his vision kept flickering with vivid flashes of those fingers inside him, inside his own mouth. He could almost feel it there, thrusting in and out and in and out and-- Mutely, he formed the word: please.
Malfoy smirked, languidly thrusting his middle finger into his mouth to join the other one.
Harry bit down on his lower lip, hearing a buzzing sound in his ears that usually meant he was either about to explode with anger or faint. Generally, he just hexed his antagonist, but said antagonist was currently conveniently out of reach, and Harry couldn't even bear to imagine having to walk right now.
Malfoy's eyes stayed open, and he was looking straight at him. Malfoy wasn't blinking any more than Harry was. Harry was prepared not to be absolutely furious if he knew that Malfoy was in the same state he was.
(hope your dick falls off-- hope you wank yourself to death-- oh-- god-- not another-- fuck-- fuckme-- do it, just do it-- god, god, god, god Malfoy)
Desperately, Harry stuffed a loaf of bread into his mouth, willing to look ridiculous just to gag the moans. He had to get the hell out of there, but he still-- couldn't-- move.
And now standing up might actually be painful.
How did Malfoy know about--? How did anyone know? He'd never told anyone! There were silencing spells on while he slept; it was impossible. No one knew. No one....
(nononono-- no--!)
The few disjointed, feverish dreams-- nightmares-- where Malfoy had sucked him off, gagging on his knees, naked as the day he was born, and--
(MALFOY!)
Harry's hips jerked once, twice, three times, then rose off the bench, immobile, for several long seconds.
(fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck)
It still took him by surprise. He didn't think he would-- how could he--?
Harry doubled over, coughing, his face painfully flushed and every cell in his entire body utterly miserable. He came with his eyes wide open, choking on a combination of his own spit and half-digested bread.
He was spurting more violently than he'd ever done before, coughing all the while. Ron was now loyally pounding on his back, calling his name, and Harry couldn't stop either coughing or coming.
Saliva dribbled down his chin and his trousers were a mess.
He'd have been laughing if he could spare the breath.
Finally, they noticed.
Malfoy looked away, flushing. He looked down at his fingers, as if surprised to see them. For the first time, he looked uncomfortable, and Harry barely noticed or cared.
It hadn't even been a minute.
~~
Is it because I care..? Is it because there can never be enough H/D porn...? Is it because I simply have too much time to waste...??
Sigh. Oh well, more porn it is, then. Woe. Woe indeed.
Disclaimer: ahahahah I wonder what JKR would say, if. Let's just not find out. Good thing this whole thing is hers, eh? Well, except for the porn.
Author's note: Hello, fandom. More H/D mouth porn from moi.
- minute man -
There were no words for this.
(what is he doing?!)
Harry's mind spun in tiny circles; he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink. His thoughts ran over each other, tumbling, whirling, disorganized and frantic.
(don't look-- movemovemovemove-- can't look-- what the-- Malfoy-- what is he trying to-- God-- no-- no!-- bloody hell, how can--!)
Merely seconds ago, Malfoy had been flipping him off. That was all it was. Harry barely lifted an eyebrow, pretty close to chuckling at the other's frustrated little gesture. He'd caught it unexpectedly, but there was no doubt about Malfoy's target, feeling the vicious glare boring into him. The one-time Prince of Slytherin, resorting to staring contests. It was... funny.
And that's when it happened.
The complete and utter death of any and all humor Harry could imagine experiencing in the near future. The smirk shriveled on his mouth almost before it formed, and he'd gasped wetly before he even knew what he saw.
(yessssss)
His mind was still catching up, but his blood knew exactly how fast it intended to drain into his lap within two heartbeats.
Harry's eyes had bugged out as far as they would go, and his fork clattered to the table. Suddenly, it was as if all the rest of the riotous Gryffindors around him had disappeared. He couldn't turn away. He couldn't see anything but the impossibly filthy-- wrong-- disgusting--
(so hot-- oh-- Malfoy was-- he was-- no!-- no)
Slowly, Malfoy was drawing his index finger into his (glistening, open, wet) mouth. Sucking. He was sucking on it. He was looking straight at Harry, and sucking on that single bloody thin, pale finger. It popped in and out in some sort of rhythm, disappearing entirely between those pursed pink lips.
Harry's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table.
He thought he might be going insane, because this couldn't possibly be happening to him. Except it was.
He thought he might come in his trousers any second.
(can't-- touch-- oh god, he's so-- no! nononono-- ohhhh-- no, stop, have to stop)
And Malfoy was still doing... that.
(--fuckable--)
In and out, in and out, and Harry caught himself about to lift his own finger to his mouth....
(so red, how can a mouth look like-- open wider, come on-- fuck-- wanna see you dripping-- choking-- on me-- fuck)
Ron and Hermione were arguing again, and even if he could've found the basic mental capacity to get their attention, what would he say? How could he say it? ("Make him stop, God I'm about to come, make it STOP!") Why didn't anyone notice?!
Harry's eyes were just about rolling back in his head and he breathed like he was running a sprint race, and why was no one asking, why was no one stopping--
Malfoy was-- he was fucking his own mouth right in front of them!
(does he want-- don't care don'tcare-- ohgodyes)
Distantly, Harry realized that barely a minute had passed since the start, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing could penetrate the roiling fog inside his head.
(want to tear you open-- just-- do it down your throat-- all the way-- god)
Harry was shaking visibly now, squirming on the bench, seconds from orgasm and unable to do a thing. He couldn't stop this, couldn't break the spell, and Malfoy-- Malfoy knew-- Harry knew he knew, and the anger choked him.
(FUCK YOU!)
And maybe-- maybe Malfoy wanted that, wanted to humiliate him, use him, control him, and-- a part of him didn't care.
Somehow, for the first time in his memory, no one was looking at Malfoy but Harry. Perversely, impossibly, they were the only two people in the Hall; possibly in all of Hogwarts.
(more-- please-- more)
It didn't matter anymore. All the bustling Housemates surrounding him, their location, Harry's hatred, the need to hurt the other boy for this-- none of it mattered; Harry just wanted to come, and now--
And no one saw. That was the only possible explanation, because Malfoy kept on doing it. And Harry kept on getting redder, hotter, and now he could only breathe through his mouth.
He was burning in place. He needed release. He'd even ask if he could move or force his mouth to shape actual syllables. He'd ask Malfoy for something at this moment.
(PLEASE)
Harry's palms were sweating, and his heart appeared to have permanently moved to his mouth. He had to keep swallowing, that was all he knew. He had more spit suddenly flooding his mouth than he knew what to do with, and his vision kept flickering with vivid flashes of those fingers inside him, inside his own mouth. He could almost feel it there, thrusting in and out and in and out and-- Mutely, he formed the word: please.
Malfoy smirked, languidly thrusting his middle finger into his mouth to join the other one.
Harry bit down on his lower lip, hearing a buzzing sound in his ears that usually meant he was either about to explode with anger or faint. Generally, he just hexed his antagonist, but said antagonist was currently conveniently out of reach, and Harry couldn't even bear to imagine having to walk right now.
Malfoy's eyes stayed open, and he was looking straight at him. Malfoy wasn't blinking any more than Harry was. Harry was prepared not to be absolutely furious if he knew that Malfoy was in the same state he was.
(hope your dick falls off-- hope you wank yourself to death-- oh-- god-- not another-- fuck-- fuckme-- do it, just do it-- god, god, god, god Malfoy)
Desperately, Harry stuffed a loaf of bread into his mouth, willing to look ridiculous just to gag the moans. He had to get the hell out of there, but he still-- couldn't-- move.
And now standing up might actually be painful.
How did Malfoy know about--? How did anyone know? He'd never told anyone! There were silencing spells on while he slept; it was impossible. No one knew. No one....
(nononono-- no--!)
The few disjointed, feverish dreams-- nightmares-- where Malfoy had sucked him off, gagging on his knees, naked as the day he was born, and--
(MALFOY!)
Harry's hips jerked once, twice, three times, then rose off the bench, immobile, for several long seconds.
(fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck)
It still took him by surprise. He didn't think he would-- how could he--?
Harry doubled over, coughing, his face painfully flushed and every cell in his entire body utterly miserable. He came with his eyes wide open, choking on a combination of his own spit and half-digested bread.
He was spurting more violently than he'd ever done before, coughing all the while. Ron was now loyally pounding on his back, calling his name, and Harry couldn't stop either coughing or coming.
Saliva dribbled down his chin and his trousers were a mess.
He'd have been laughing if he could spare the breath.
Finally, they noticed.
Malfoy looked away, flushing. He looked down at his fingers, as if surprised to see them. For the first time, he looked uncomfortable, and Harry barely noticed or cared.
It hadn't even been a minute.
~~