I suck at writing
This was supposed to be a Tom/Harry fic for spryjojo, but I can't write Tom/Harry to save my life. I can't write slash to save my life either, really, but that's a whole other problem...
Hence, I decided to give up on trying to write an actual fic and just post the short smutty bit I wrote so at least spryjojo can enjoy it.
“This is a memory,” Tom said quietly.
“I never-”
“My memory,” he cut Harry off. “That is Octavius Malfoy. He was my Ancient Runes professor.”
Harry stared. “You fucked your professor?”
Tom shrugged. “He was never as forthcoming as Sluggy, but it was worth it.”
Harry shuddered. The thought of having sex with any of his professors-McGonagall, Flitwick, or God forbid, Snape-horrified him.
The two men continued sliding against each other, oblivious.
“Well, that explains why I can still cast spells and you can’t.” Tom twirled his wand between his long fingers. “This is my mind, so I’m in control.”
“If you’re so in control, then get us out of here,” Harry snapped. “Or do you like being trapped in your own memory?”
Anger flashed through Tom’s eye and his lip curled.
“You don’t know how to get us out, do you? You don’t even know how we got in here in the first place!” Harry yelled.
Suddenly, a thick, rubbery substance covered his mouth. “Do kindly shut up,” Tom hissed.
“It seems there’s nothing to do here,” Tom mused. “Unfortunate.”
Harry glared at him, but the gag had yet to be removed, so he could not voice his annoyance.
Tom turned in his seat, his eyes resting on Harry as if he were seeing him for the first time. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” His lips curled up.
Harry wanted to snap, “Of course I have, I’m fucking seventeen now, thank you very much,” but through the gag he could only manage “Mmrrph!”
Tom’s smile widened. “I think I'm bored. Aren’t you bored, Harry?”
Harry did not like his tone of voice at all. Voldemort bored could be a dangerous thing.
Tom rose from the chair he was draped over and strode over to Harry. “Well, after watching Octavius at work, who wouldn’t want to be…entertained?”
Harry’s eye widened at the insinuation. “ERMMMPH!” He wiggled, but he vines were still wound around him, rooting him to the spot.
Tom lowered his head and bit at Harry’s neck, just under his jaw. The scrap of teeth was followed by a lick. Harry whimpered.
Tom continued, nibbling and licking down to his collarbone, his hands holding Harry still by his shoulders. Then he leaned in and sucked. The jolt went straight to Harry’s groin. Okay, so may Octavius Malfoy and Memory-Tom had been a little more interesting than he’d first admitted.
Tom laughed and waved his wand. The bonds holding Harry dissolved, but he didn’t seem to be able to lift his arms.
Tom placed both hands on his chest and pushed. Harry almost fell over, scrambling, to keep his feet under him. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell back, suddenly unable to moved his legs again.
Tom smirked. It seemed that Harry could only move his limbs when Tom allowed it.
The other man flicked his wand, and Harry’s left sneaker flew off. Then his right, followed by both socks. Tom’s eyes darkened, and then the helm of Harry’s sweater was rising, sliding up over his chest, then his shoulders, pulling his leaden arms with it until they were stretched out over his head and the sleeves finally popped off from his wrists. Then Tom began anew with the t-shirt he wore underneath.
Harry wiggled, but at best he could move his hips an inch. The movement caused the fabric of his shirt to scrape against his nipples, and he issued a muffled gasp. No doubt Tom heard it anyway. This time, when the shirt was drawn up over his face, Tom stopped, leaving Harry in the dark. “Errrmmph!” Harry protested, wriggling harder, but he hear Tom chuckle in response.
Then the top button of his trousers popped open. Harry froze. He was half-hard for no reason. Well, other than watching two men engage and vigorous sex. And that thing Tom did to his neck. Thinking about that made him harder. He almost didn’t notice the rasp as the zip slid down.
Then, nothing.
He heard footsteps, but the trousers had stopped moving.
Harry tried to breathe normally, but his heart was thudding in his chest and he was almost choking on the gag. He couldn’t breathe fast enough though his nose, his breath coming out in small pants.
A finger flicked against his stomach, just under his bellybutton. His cock jumped.
Tom laughed again.
His trousers resumed their downward slide until they fell off his ankle, but that finger kept flicking against his skin, running up his side, across his chest, around each nipple in turn and back down the other side.
Harry moaned.
And then his boxers were coming off, sliding down on their own accord and freeing his trapped cock. The friction from the fabric had him twisting to get more contact.
Those fingers had moved down, now stroking up and down his thighs, moving slowly towards the extra-sensitive skin of his upper inner thighs.
“I’m going to fuck you, Harry.”
His hips jerked at the words.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Harry shook his head vehemently, but his cock nodded in agreement.
He felt something hard and cold press up behind his balls and he was filled with some warm and wet.
Tom was lifting his legs now, pressing something blunt and hot against Harry’s entrance. He clenched up, knowing what it was without needing to see.
Tom paused. “You know, I think I’d like to hear you scream.”
Harry instinctively drew in a lungful of breathe as the gag dissolved, but it was only halfway in when Tom thrust forward.
Harry screamed.
Hence, I decided to give up on trying to write an actual fic and just post the short smutty bit I wrote so at least spryjojo can enjoy it.
“This is a memory,” Tom said quietly.
“I never-”
“My memory,” he cut Harry off. “That is Octavius Malfoy. He was my Ancient Runes professor.”
Harry stared. “You fucked your professor?”
Tom shrugged. “He was never as forthcoming as Sluggy, but it was worth it.”
Harry shuddered. The thought of having sex with any of his professors-McGonagall, Flitwick, or God forbid, Snape-horrified him.
The two men continued sliding against each other, oblivious.
“Well, that explains why I can still cast spells and you can’t.” Tom twirled his wand between his long fingers. “This is my mind, so I’m in control.”
“If you’re so in control, then get us out of here,” Harry snapped. “Or do you like being trapped in your own memory?”
Anger flashed through Tom’s eye and his lip curled.
“You don’t know how to get us out, do you? You don’t even know how we got in here in the first place!” Harry yelled.
Suddenly, a thick, rubbery substance covered his mouth. “Do kindly shut up,” Tom hissed.
“It seems there’s nothing to do here,” Tom mused. “Unfortunate.”
Harry glared at him, but the gag had yet to be removed, so he could not voice his annoyance.
Tom turned in his seat, his eyes resting on Harry as if he were seeing him for the first time. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.” His lips curled up.
Harry wanted to snap, “Of course I have, I’m fucking seventeen now, thank you very much,” but through the gag he could only manage “Mmrrph!”
Tom’s smile widened. “I think I'm bored. Aren’t you bored, Harry?”
Harry did not like his tone of voice at all. Voldemort bored could be a dangerous thing.
Tom rose from the chair he was draped over and strode over to Harry. “Well, after watching Octavius at work, who wouldn’t want to be…entertained?”
Harry’s eye widened at the insinuation. “ERMMMPH!” He wiggled, but he vines were still wound around him, rooting him to the spot.
Tom lowered his head and bit at Harry’s neck, just under his jaw. The scrap of teeth was followed by a lick. Harry whimpered.
Tom continued, nibbling and licking down to his collarbone, his hands holding Harry still by his shoulders. Then he leaned in and sucked. The jolt went straight to Harry’s groin. Okay, so may Octavius Malfoy and Memory-Tom had been a little more interesting than he’d first admitted.
Tom laughed and waved his wand. The bonds holding Harry dissolved, but he didn’t seem to be able to lift his arms.
Tom placed both hands on his chest and pushed. Harry almost fell over, scrambling, to keep his feet under him. The back of his knees hit the bed and he fell back, suddenly unable to moved his legs again.
Tom smirked. It seemed that Harry could only move his limbs when Tom allowed it.
The other man flicked his wand, and Harry’s left sneaker flew off. Then his right, followed by both socks. Tom’s eyes darkened, and then the helm of Harry’s sweater was rising, sliding up over his chest, then his shoulders, pulling his leaden arms with it until they were stretched out over his head and the sleeves finally popped off from his wrists. Then Tom began anew with the t-shirt he wore underneath.
Harry wiggled, but at best he could move his hips an inch. The movement caused the fabric of his shirt to scrape against his nipples, and he issued a muffled gasp. No doubt Tom heard it anyway. This time, when the shirt was drawn up over his face, Tom stopped, leaving Harry in the dark. “Errrmmph!” Harry protested, wriggling harder, but he hear Tom chuckle in response.
Then the top button of his trousers popped open. Harry froze. He was half-hard for no reason. Well, other than watching two men engage and vigorous sex. And that thing Tom did to his neck. Thinking about that made him harder. He almost didn’t notice the rasp as the zip slid down.
Then, nothing.
He heard footsteps, but the trousers had stopped moving.
Harry tried to breathe normally, but his heart was thudding in his chest and he was almost choking on the gag. He couldn’t breathe fast enough though his nose, his breath coming out in small pants.
A finger flicked against his stomach, just under his bellybutton. His cock jumped.
Tom laughed again.
His trousers resumed their downward slide until they fell off his ankle, but that finger kept flicking against his skin, running up his side, across his chest, around each nipple in turn and back down the other side.
Harry moaned.
And then his boxers were coming off, sliding down on their own accord and freeing his trapped cock. The friction from the fabric had him twisting to get more contact.
Those fingers had moved down, now stroking up and down his thighs, moving slowly towards the extra-sensitive skin of his upper inner thighs.
“I’m going to fuck you, Harry.”
His hips jerked at the words.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Harry shook his head vehemently, but his cock nodded in agreement.
He felt something hard and cold press up behind his balls and he was filled with some warm and wet.
Tom was lifting his legs now, pressing something blunt and hot against Harry’s entrance. He clenched up, knowing what it was without needing to see.
Tom paused. “You know, I think I’d like to hear you scream.”
Harry instinctively drew in a lungful of breathe as the gag dissolved, but it was only halfway in when Tom thrust forward.
Harry screamed.