Fic: 'Alone' Harry Potter NC17 for melmoe1
Title - Alone
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - None, mistakes are mine alone
Rating - NC17
Word Count - 947
Characters/Pairings - Harry
Warnings - Highlight for warnings *Adult Language, Sex, Solo*
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Harry takes some time alone
Author's Notes - This fic is prompted by this slice of hot heaven drawn by the marvellous melmoe1, so this is for her and, by extension, for ravenqueen55 who the prompting picture was drawn for
Stepping out of the steaming water, Harry shook his head, smiling at the childish joy of messing up his bathroom with little droplets of water. He grabbed the towel and ran it over his limbs and torso, drying his skin thoroughly and heading into his room as he towelled his hair. Harry stood in front of his mirror, watching himself dry off and toss the towel to the side, before he Summoned a comb and attempted to tame his hair. He knew it made no difference; his hair would still be wild when he went to work tomorrow, but he didn’t really care.
Grabbing the pot of moisturiser on the side, Harry scooped some into his hands and split it between his palms. He massaged the thick, white cream into his knees, shoulders and elbows. The physical exertion of Auror training, combined with the bad weather at the moment, made the skin dry and flaky, and it made him bleed that much more when he took a tumble. As his hands moved over his shoulder, Harry ran his fingers up his neck and over his cheek. There was slight stubble there, and he made a mental note to shave in the morning.
Screwing the cap back on the moisturiser, Harry put the pot on the nightstand and walked slowly around his room, setting things up for the morning. It had been a long day, and he was tired and ever so slightly achy. Picking up the notes he would need for his lessons tomorrow, Harry sat down on the seat at the foot of his bed and smiled at the feel of the soft upholstery against his bare skin.
Though he tried to read through his notes in preparation for tomorrow, Harry couldn't focus on them. Laying them on the floor, next to the cherry-wood leg of the bench, he lay back and let his eyes slide closed. One hand dangled off the edge of the bed, and the other rested lazily on his stomach. With his eyes closed and his head tipped back, Harry just allowed his mind to wander, barely paying it attention as he wound down before bed. The hand on his stomach swirled slow circles on his skin, gradually moving up to his chest and down to the trail of soft hair on his abdomen.
Humming softly, Harry shifted his stance a little, widening his legs and trailing his fingers slowly over the insides of his thighs. He liked the time he could take when he was alone, liked the contrast of the comforting warmth inside when he knew it was bitingly cold outside.
Pausing to cock one eye open and whisper a reveal spell, Harry smiled when he saw the coloured lines of his wards floating around the room. He knew he'd never forget to ward his house, but he also knew he'd always need to check. Satisfied that no unwanted visitors could get in, Harry closed his eyes and rested his head back on the upholstery, his fingers moving to graze along his stiffening shaft.
The hand hanging down the side of the seat groped on the floor, finally coming into contact with the tube of lubricant he knew had been tossed to the floor last time he'd used it. Letting go of his cock, Harry squeezed a dollop of lube into the palm of his left hand and allowed his right to drop back down, knuckles grazing the plush carpet gently. Smearing the clear fluid over his shaft, Harry moaned softly as pleasure coursed through his body. The decadence, of being alone and focusing on himself, was not lost on a man whose life had been dictated by the needs of others, and Harry briefly wondered if he should get out some toys and make this a proper night in.
Tiredness, and the knowledge he had to be up in the morning, won over, and Harry focused his attentions on the hand around his cock. The grip was important, and Harry tried a few times before he found the perfect grip, the one that squeezed without squashing and caused his foreskin to slide up and down as his hand moved and his hips thrust minutely. Moving his thumb, Harry swiped it over the exposed head of his prick on the upstroke.
As he repeated the motions, Harry hummed, the soft noise turning into a gurgling moan as his lips parted, his breath coming faster now as his body twitched and spasmed randomly. His entrance fluttered between firm cheeks as Harry's little noises of pleasure caught in his throat. His toes curled and flexed in the thick, soft pile of the carpet, and his hand moved faster, taking him closer to the edge. His chest arched, breath puffing out between his lips as the heat pooling in his groin seeped outwards, setting his nerves alight as his fingers tightened around his weeping shaft, beads of warm release trickling over his knuckles.
Harry breathed heavily, the grip on his cock loosening with the rest of the muscles in his body as he slowly came down. When he finally released his cock, the soft flesh fell to his stomach, and he wrinkled his nose at the slightly cold feel of lubricant and semen against his skin. A muttered cleaning charm was about all Harry could manage, and he rolled gracelessly onto the bed, crawling up to flop against the pillows and close his eyes. He briefly mused at how sleeping with his legs spread open was an invitation, his mind supplying a few faces he'd give that invitation to, before he finally let his mind shut down and fell into a satisfied sleep.
Author - softly_sweetly
Beta - None, mistakes are mine alone
Rating - NC17
Word Count - 947
Characters/Pairings - Harry
Warnings - Highlight for warnings *Adult Language, Sex, Solo*
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story. All characters depicted in sexual situations herein are above the age of consent.
Summary - Harry takes some time alone
Author's Notes - This fic is prompted by this slice of hot heaven drawn by the marvellous melmoe1, so this is for her and, by extension, for ravenqueen55 who the prompting picture was drawn for
Stepping out of the steaming water, Harry shook his head, smiling at the childish joy of messing up his bathroom with little droplets of water. He grabbed the towel and ran it over his limbs and torso, drying his skin thoroughly and heading into his room as he towelled his hair. Harry stood in front of his mirror, watching himself dry off and toss the towel to the side, before he Summoned a comb and attempted to tame his hair. He knew it made no difference; his hair would still be wild when he went to work tomorrow, but he didn’t really care.
Grabbing the pot of moisturiser on the side, Harry scooped some into his hands and split it between his palms. He massaged the thick, white cream into his knees, shoulders and elbows. The physical exertion of Auror training, combined with the bad weather at the moment, made the skin dry and flaky, and it made him bleed that much more when he took a tumble. As his hands moved over his shoulder, Harry ran his fingers up his neck and over his cheek. There was slight stubble there, and he made a mental note to shave in the morning.
Screwing the cap back on the moisturiser, Harry put the pot on the nightstand and walked slowly around his room, setting things up for the morning. It had been a long day, and he was tired and ever so slightly achy. Picking up the notes he would need for his lessons tomorrow, Harry sat down on the seat at the foot of his bed and smiled at the feel of the soft upholstery against his bare skin.
Though he tried to read through his notes in preparation for tomorrow, Harry couldn't focus on them. Laying them on the floor, next to the cherry-wood leg of the bench, he lay back and let his eyes slide closed. One hand dangled off the edge of the bed, and the other rested lazily on his stomach. With his eyes closed and his head tipped back, Harry just allowed his mind to wander, barely paying it attention as he wound down before bed. The hand on his stomach swirled slow circles on his skin, gradually moving up to his chest and down to the trail of soft hair on his abdomen.
Humming softly, Harry shifted his stance a little, widening his legs and trailing his fingers slowly over the insides of his thighs. He liked the time he could take when he was alone, liked the contrast of the comforting warmth inside when he knew it was bitingly cold outside.
Pausing to cock one eye open and whisper a reveal spell, Harry smiled when he saw the coloured lines of his wards floating around the room. He knew he'd never forget to ward his house, but he also knew he'd always need to check. Satisfied that no unwanted visitors could get in, Harry closed his eyes and rested his head back on the upholstery, his fingers moving to graze along his stiffening shaft.
The hand hanging down the side of the seat groped on the floor, finally coming into contact with the tube of lubricant he knew had been tossed to the floor last time he'd used it. Letting go of his cock, Harry squeezed a dollop of lube into the palm of his left hand and allowed his right to drop back down, knuckles grazing the plush carpet gently. Smearing the clear fluid over his shaft, Harry moaned softly as pleasure coursed through his body. The decadence, of being alone and focusing on himself, was not lost on a man whose life had been dictated by the needs of others, and Harry briefly wondered if he should get out some toys and make this a proper night in.
Tiredness, and the knowledge he had to be up in the morning, won over, and Harry focused his attentions on the hand around his cock. The grip was important, and Harry tried a few times before he found the perfect grip, the one that squeezed without squashing and caused his foreskin to slide up and down as his hand moved and his hips thrust minutely. Moving his thumb, Harry swiped it over the exposed head of his prick on the upstroke.
As he repeated the motions, Harry hummed, the soft noise turning into a gurgling moan as his lips parted, his breath coming faster now as his body twitched and spasmed randomly. His entrance fluttered between firm cheeks as Harry's little noises of pleasure caught in his throat. His toes curled and flexed in the thick, soft pile of the carpet, and his hand moved faster, taking him closer to the edge. His chest arched, breath puffing out between his lips as the heat pooling in his groin seeped outwards, setting his nerves alight as his fingers tightened around his weeping shaft, beads of warm release trickling over his knuckles.
Harry breathed heavily, the grip on his cock loosening with the rest of the muscles in his body as he slowly came down. When he finally released his cock, the soft flesh fell to his stomach, and he wrinkled his nose at the slightly cold feel of lubricant and semen against his skin. A muttered cleaning charm was about all Harry could manage, and he rolled gracelessly onto the bed, crawling up to flop against the pillows and close his eyes. He briefly mused at how sleeping with his legs spread open was an invitation, his mind supplying a few faces he'd give that invitation to, before he finally let his mind shut down and fell into a satisfied sleep.