100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,537
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,537
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.
Star
Title: Star
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: Oral
Summary: #46 – Star. She came to him in starlight.
Word Count: 1, 285 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 46 – Star
She came from starlight, that was all he knew. He had stopped questioning the possible mechanics of it all. He was more concerned with being about to touch her without making her image disappear.
She only ever appeared in the Head’s Common Room, a room that he shared with a very absent Slytherin Head Girl. He did not worry about her coming in and interrupting. So it was at night that the girl appeared in starlight, laying upon the bench under the window, nude, eyes staring at him as if waiting for him to notice her.
James Potter had declared his undying love to Lily Evans, but, the woman in the starlight was something more.
She spoke to him at times, but no sound ever came. He could only read some words from her lips, but never her name.
He would speak to her, and she seemed to hear him. He would ask who she was, why she was there, but there was never an answer.
That night he had moved an armchair before the bench and he sat in his loose pyjama bottoms, watching as the woman began to materialize on the bench, lying on her side, her head propped up in her hand. Even made of starlight, he could tell that her eyes were a strange amber colour, and her unruly waves of hair were a caramel brown. As for her perfect skin, it was made of starlight and gleamed silver.
She greeted him with a nod of her head, her free hand draped over her rounded hip to obscure the dark curls between her thighs. James had never seen a woman naked like this woman. He had seen pictures in Sirius’ smut magazines, but it was nothing compared to this woman.
Her lips moved slowly, carefully, as if she knew that he had to struggle to read them.
‘…last time I can come like this…’
He frowned, leaning forward in the armchair, adjusting his glasses on his nose.
“Why?” he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice.
She moved, sitting up on the bench under the window, leaning back into the wall, curling her long legs beside her.
‘…too hard to become…’
He thought perhaps she said ‘corporeal,’ but was not sure.
‘…wanted to see for myself…’
He blinked, not understanding.
Their meetings were never long, but were composed of two things: her trying to tell him something and her showing him every part of her body. Part of the reason he had never told anyone about the woman was because they might think him insane, and because she was his alone. He wanted to touch her because he wanted to feel the softness of her skin, the dewy wetness she showed him when she touched herself.
It was like some sad excuse of a ‘peep show.’ She tortured him.
‘…show me, James…’
How she knew his name was a mystery. She knew his name from the very beginning, and yet, he had no clue as to who she was.
“I want to touch you,” he said, slowly standing from the armchair, stepping closer.
Sometimes he thought he could smell her.
‘Try…’
He swallowed, taking another step forward. He was afraid that if his own shadow in the starlight would fall over her, she would disappear, but he reached out, to touch her heavy breast.
For a moment, he felt nothing but air, as if she was made of smoke, and then, suddenly, he felt flesh. A thrill shot through him as his thumb brushed an erect, dusky nipple. The front of his pyjama bottoms tented. He ground his teeth, slightly embarrassed that he would get an erect by merely touching a woman’s breast. Lily had never let him ever get so far.
He gazed down at her face, her eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall. He wondered how old she was, she did not look much older than the girls did in his year, but she was still far more mature. She was ageless, made of starlight and warm silvery skin.
Her eyes opened slowly as his hand grasped her breast firmly, more confidently.
‘Kneel…’
James was panting for breath, but complied. He could not help but begin to push his pyjama pants off his slim hips, freeing the aching erection, and taking it in one hand. She watched him, peering down along her straight nose, first as his cock, then up his bare chest.
It had to be some dream, he thought as her legs unfurled, knees falling open before his face, revealing the dark curls and slippery flesh. He looked up at her face again, her lips moving.
All he caught was: ‘…do it…something…you…’
His fingers touched the heated flesh, felt the sticky wetness, and slipped inside her body. It was impossibly warm and tight, and withdrawing his fingers, they were wet. He sniffed and then tasted, his other hand stroking his cock in hard, but slow movements.
She tasted like honey.
Her hands touched his face, and with a movement, removed his glasses, letting them clatter to the rug under his knees. When his mouth pressed against her, her fingers lacing through his dark, untidy hair, his pumping hand became more hurried.
‘Listen to me, James Potter.’
Her words were so clear and he opened his hazel eyes to stare up into her face. She was speaking, but still there was no sound, whatever he was hearing was not her voice.
‘Listen well…’
He listened, but kept licking and nipping at her flesh. He listened to her words, incredulous. She told him about his future, told him about Lily and about a man who had been in the papers, Voldemort.
‘No more time…’
Her back arched, and glancing up to her face, he saw the glorious expression of climax. It was too much, and he pulled away, ejaculate coating his chest. He fell back onto the rug, gasping, his chin sticky from her juices.
However, as he looked up at her, she was gone.
Ten Years Later…
Hermione whimpered her completion as Harry pulled his mouth quickly away, gasping. His hand crushed into the glass lens of his discarded spectacles, but it ignored the pain. The clouds had obscured the sky and the stars above.
“Did…did it work?” Harry asked, crawling over Hermione’s trembling, nude body to gather her up in his arms.
She nodded, “I think so…”
Harry sighed, licking her sweet juices from her lips. He kissed her, brushing her wild hair from her face, feeling her shiver in the cool night. The stone table in the sacred circle was cold now that the magic waned.
She kissed him in return, her arms snaking about his neck.
Harry groaned as her hip shifted, brushing against his hard cock. He was still lying in the cradle of her hips. He wanted to plunge inside her, take her once, and for all, but it was never supposed to happen that way.
He loved her, his best friend, but the actions were part of the magic, not done because they originally wanted to feel something more than what they had. All that mattered was the magic worked, and the message had been relayed. Hermione had told James Potter, his father, what he needed to know so that every event would play out correctly.
“It’s alright now,” Hermione whispered, letting Harry pull away.
The magic was gone from the circle, and Ron and Neville came running, Neville throwing a cloak over Hermione’s trembling body, taking her up into his arms. Ron helped Harry off the ancient stone table, letting the cloak drape over his shoulders.
“It’s over,” Harry whispered as he watched Neville carry Hermione away.
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: Oral
Summary: #46 – Star. She came to him in starlight.
Word Count: 1, 285 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words.
Prompt 46 – Star
She came from starlight, that was all he knew. He had stopped questioning the possible mechanics of it all. He was more concerned with being about to touch her without making her image disappear.
She only ever appeared in the Head’s Common Room, a room that he shared with a very absent Slytherin Head Girl. He did not worry about her coming in and interrupting. So it was at night that the girl appeared in starlight, laying upon the bench under the window, nude, eyes staring at him as if waiting for him to notice her.
James Potter had declared his undying love to Lily Evans, but, the woman in the starlight was something more.
She spoke to him at times, but no sound ever came. He could only read some words from her lips, but never her name.
He would speak to her, and she seemed to hear him. He would ask who she was, why she was there, but there was never an answer.
That night he had moved an armchair before the bench and he sat in his loose pyjama bottoms, watching as the woman began to materialize on the bench, lying on her side, her head propped up in her hand. Even made of starlight, he could tell that her eyes were a strange amber colour, and her unruly waves of hair were a caramel brown. As for her perfect skin, it was made of starlight and gleamed silver.
She greeted him with a nod of her head, her free hand draped over her rounded hip to obscure the dark curls between her thighs. James had never seen a woman naked like this woman. He had seen pictures in Sirius’ smut magazines, but it was nothing compared to this woman.
Her lips moved slowly, carefully, as if she knew that he had to struggle to read them.
‘…last time I can come like this…’
He frowned, leaning forward in the armchair, adjusting his glasses on his nose.
“Why?” he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice.
She moved, sitting up on the bench under the window, leaning back into the wall, curling her long legs beside her.
‘…too hard to become…’
He thought perhaps she said ‘corporeal,’ but was not sure.
‘…wanted to see for myself…’
He blinked, not understanding.
Their meetings were never long, but were composed of two things: her trying to tell him something and her showing him every part of her body. Part of the reason he had never told anyone about the woman was because they might think him insane, and because she was his alone. He wanted to touch her because he wanted to feel the softness of her skin, the dewy wetness she showed him when she touched herself.
It was like some sad excuse of a ‘peep show.’ She tortured him.
‘…show me, James…’
How she knew his name was a mystery. She knew his name from the very beginning, and yet, he had no clue as to who she was.
“I want to touch you,” he said, slowly standing from the armchair, stepping closer.
Sometimes he thought he could smell her.
‘Try…’
He swallowed, taking another step forward. He was afraid that if his own shadow in the starlight would fall over her, she would disappear, but he reached out, to touch her heavy breast.
For a moment, he felt nothing but air, as if she was made of smoke, and then, suddenly, he felt flesh. A thrill shot through him as his thumb brushed an erect, dusky nipple. The front of his pyjama bottoms tented. He ground his teeth, slightly embarrassed that he would get an erect by merely touching a woman’s breast. Lily had never let him ever get so far.
He gazed down at her face, her eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall. He wondered how old she was, she did not look much older than the girls did in his year, but she was still far more mature. She was ageless, made of starlight and warm silvery skin.
Her eyes opened slowly as his hand grasped her breast firmly, more confidently.
‘Kneel…’
James was panting for breath, but complied. He could not help but begin to push his pyjama pants off his slim hips, freeing the aching erection, and taking it in one hand. She watched him, peering down along her straight nose, first as his cock, then up his bare chest.
It had to be some dream, he thought as her legs unfurled, knees falling open before his face, revealing the dark curls and slippery flesh. He looked up at her face again, her lips moving.
All he caught was: ‘…do it…something…you…’
His fingers touched the heated flesh, felt the sticky wetness, and slipped inside her body. It was impossibly warm and tight, and withdrawing his fingers, they were wet. He sniffed and then tasted, his other hand stroking his cock in hard, but slow movements.
She tasted like honey.
Her hands touched his face, and with a movement, removed his glasses, letting them clatter to the rug under his knees. When his mouth pressed against her, her fingers lacing through his dark, untidy hair, his pumping hand became more hurried.
‘Listen to me, James Potter.’
Her words were so clear and he opened his hazel eyes to stare up into her face. She was speaking, but still there was no sound, whatever he was hearing was not her voice.
‘Listen well…’
He listened, but kept licking and nipping at her flesh. He listened to her words, incredulous. She told him about his future, told him about Lily and about a man who had been in the papers, Voldemort.
‘No more time…’
Her back arched, and glancing up to her face, he saw the glorious expression of climax. It was too much, and he pulled away, ejaculate coating his chest. He fell back onto the rug, gasping, his chin sticky from her juices.
However, as he looked up at her, she was gone.
Ten Years Later…
Hermione whimpered her completion as Harry pulled his mouth quickly away, gasping. His hand crushed into the glass lens of his discarded spectacles, but it ignored the pain. The clouds had obscured the sky and the stars above.
“Did…did it work?” Harry asked, crawling over Hermione’s trembling, nude body to gather her up in his arms.
She nodded, “I think so…”
Harry sighed, licking her sweet juices from her lips. He kissed her, brushing her wild hair from her face, feeling her shiver in the cool night. The stone table in the sacred circle was cold now that the magic waned.
She kissed him in return, her arms snaking about his neck.
Harry groaned as her hip shifted, brushing against his hard cock. He was still lying in the cradle of her hips. He wanted to plunge inside her, take her once, and for all, but it was never supposed to happen that way.
He loved her, his best friend, but the actions were part of the magic, not done because they originally wanted to feel something more than what they had. All that mattered was the magic worked, and the message had been relayed. Hermione had told James Potter, his father, what he needed to know so that every event would play out correctly.
“It’s alright now,” Hermione whispered, letting Harry pull away.
The magic was gone from the circle, and Ron and Neville came running, Neville throwing a cloak over Hermione’s trembling body, taking her up into his arms. Ron helped Harry off the ancient stone table, letting the cloak drape over his shoulders.
“It’s over,” Harry whispered as he watched Neville carry Hermione away.