Watch: H/G - M

Jul 05, 2007 14:24

Title: Watch
Pairing: Harry/Ginny, Ginny/Ginny *lol*
Rating: M for Mature
Disclaimer: The characters and or anything else you recognize belongs of course to JK Rowling, I make nothing off of this, its just for fun, et cetera, etc.
A/n: Mars’ prompt, Harry/Ginny, watch.


Harry slipped underneath the safe cover of his dad’s old invisibility cloak, wincing as the door creaked shut behind him, even though he knew a rowdy batch of Fred and George’s fireworks couldn’t wake Ron once he’d fallen asleep. The burrow is dead quiet -- an analogy Harry made a note to refrain from using the future -- and every small step he took made a dreadful noise that Harry was sure would wake Molly or Arthur. It was much to Harry’s surprise when he finally reached the second floor without anyone one ripping the cloak off of him and giving him a stern talking to, or worse, waking the inhabitant of the door he was currently standing sheepishly in front of.

Harry wished he could just let go, stand by the words he made at Dumbledore’s funeral, and move on with what was left of his life, but it wasn‘t proving to be as easy as it sounded. There was a bossy, cheeky, sexy as hell redhead standing defiantly in his way. He had loads of other things to be thinking about, extremely important things, but what he actually thought about ninety percent of the time, was her. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her hair felt on his face when they kissed and how sweet it smelled, like apples. He couldn’t get the memories of how her perfectly shaped lips felt against his and how she tasted like sweet, ripe peaches. It drove him crazy, the memories invading his cognitive process when he was trying desperately to get something constructive done, leaving him only with an embarrassing situation in his trousers and the need for a good shower.

Harry could hear her making sweet sleeping noises as he pressed his ear flush against the wooden door. All he needed was a peak. Ever since he’d arrived back at the burrow after his week at the Dursley’s, Ginny had been avoiding him like a rather fatal strain of Dragon Pox. Of course Harry had known it would probably be that way. You can’t just break up with someone then expect things to go back to exactly the way they were before you attacked her in the common room and snogged the daylights out of her in front of Dean and everyone. He thought, before returning to the Weasley’s, that it would probably be best if they did just go about ignoring each other. Harry would have less distractions to worry about and get more work done with Hermione and Ron on locating the remaining Horcruxes. He had, of course, never been more wrong in his entire life.

Harry used every last ounce of concentration in his body to turn the knob as slowly as humanly possible, wishing he knew a charm to mute the squeaking sound the metal knob made as it turned, and finally the door slid open. He pulled the cloak tighter around him for good measure and slid through a ridiculously small gap -- it was a good thing he hadn’t been eating well after all. His eyes instantly fell on Ginny, her crimson hair fanned out over her light blue pillow case, and Harry was glad to know that his fantasies of her were dead on. She looked ever bit the angel as she lied peacefully on her bed, eyes fluttering as she slept. Harry took a step closer to listen to the murmuring sounds that passed through her lips as she slept; sweet little whimpers, quiet, subtle moans -- moans?

Harry’s eyes traveled down Ginny’s body, coming to a dead stop at the sight of movement coming from beneath the sheets, somewhere below Ginny’s waist. Harry swallowed. It was painful. His throat was dry and rough and he imagined it felt something like sucking on sandpaper.

Oh. Oh God. Oh GOD.

I should definitely leave.

“Ah,” Ginny gasped desperately, her face wrenched with pleasure, and thoughts of leaving the room were abruptly replaced by images of Ginny’s fair freckled skin beneath his, touching her where she was touching herself, tasting her sweet arousal from the tips of his fingers. He could smell her arousal thick in the air and it was enough to make him shudder and gasp and just almost make a mess in his trousers.

Harry bit down on his lip and steadied himself as he watched Ginny’s tender strokes become quick and frantic. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her hips arched off the bed to meet her fingers and Harry had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. He wanted so badly to join those fingers, to whisper promises in her ear while he brought her off and she murmured his name as she came undone around him. He wanted to touch her, taste her, love her the way she deserved to be loved -- the way he wanted to love her. It was because he loved her so much though, that he wouldn’t do any of those things.

Harry watched her kick the covers from the rest of her body and nearly lost himself again, drawing blood from his lip as he watched her soft, freckled fingers moving inside her white cotton knickers. Her Cannons nightshirt was a few sizes to small and crept up her stomach as she writhed and twisted in the sheets, exposing creamy, freckled skin that Harry’s tongue itched to slide across. He couldn’t take it anymore. Holding the cloak together with one hand, he slid the other inside his trousers and took hold of his cock, imagining those same soft, freckled fingers wrapping around him as he pulled on his cock once, twice, then spilled over his own trembling fingers.

His attentions turned back to Ginny as soon as he could see straight again. She was arching on the bed, her face contorting in pleasure with her bottom lip pulled tight between her teeth.

Yes, love. Come for me now, love.

“Oh God,” Ginny gasped hoarsely, her tightly wound body preparing to unwind itself in one fluid motion. “OhgodohgodohHarry.”

Harry didn’t take time to think as Ginny’s hips jerked off the bed and she stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle her screams of ecstasy. His mouth was practically watering at the sight, sound, and smell of her and the only thing left inside his mind was tasting her. He dropped to his knees, cloak still loosely draped around his shoulders, and peeled Ginny’s knickers down her thighs.

“Harry?” Her voice trembled as she rasised up on her elbows, not as surprised as he thought she might be to be having her knickers pulled off of her by an apparently invisible force.

“Shh,” Harry whispered, slipping them off her dainty, freckled ankles and stuffing them in his trouser pocket.

“Harry, what-”

“Be quiet Ginny,” Harry murmured. “Just let me do this. Just -- just pretend you’re having a really good dream.”

Ginny stared blankly in front of her where an invisible elbow was nudging her knees farther apart. She closed her eyes and fell back against her pillow as Harry’s tongue darted out and tasted her pink flesh.

Harry groaned in the back of his throat as he tasted Ginny’s sweet release from where she had brought herself to orgasm just moments before, gasping his name as she came. She tasted just as he’d imagined, sweet and ripe and juicy, like biting into an overripe peach and having the juices burst in your mouth and dribble down your chin.

“Harry,” Ginny moaned audibly, pressing herself eagerly against his mouth as she fisted the bed sheets between her fingers.

“Shh,” Harry hushed her, pulling away from her pink, glistening folds for only a moment to murmur “silencio” in the direction of the door to keep all of Ginny’s lovely sounds inside her room and no where else. He replaced his mouth around her sex almost immediately and slipped his tongue inside of her, placing his hand on her flattened stomach to keep her still.

“BloodyohhellHarry,” Ginny gasped. “Merlin, that feels…”

Ginny lost herself in the euphoric feelings Harry was causing with his tongue and lips and just when she thought it couldn’t possibly feel any better, Harry slid his tongue out of her and replaced it with his finger. Ginny’s stomach tightened and her nails scraped at the thin sheets beneath them as she pulled her raw bottom lip between her teeth to keep from shouting things that would make even Fred and George blush -- silencing charm could only work so well.

Harry’s finger slid into her easily, almost too easily, and he pulled her clit between his lips and suckled it until she was a whimpering, moaning mess.

“More,” she pleaded with a dire, hungry desperation. “Oh please please more, Harry.”

Harry’s body tightened and he felt his cock harden at the fucking gorgeous words coming from Ginny’s lips, pleading, begging. Harry growled in the back of his throat and slid another finger inside Ginny’s hot, tight core, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh as she let out a muffled cry of pleasure.

Ginny didn’t know what she liked more, feeling Harry’s finger curling inside of her, filling her more than she’d ever been filled before, or his tongue wickedly flicking across her hard, throbbing clit -- though she’d wager it was more of a combination of the two that would end up killing her with pure, sweet ecstasy.

“Ohgod Harry,” Ginny gasped suddenly as Harry dragged his teeth lightly over the throbbing bundle of nerves and his fingers rubbed at a particularly sensitive spot deep, deep inside of her.

Harry looked up and saw her looking at down at him -- though not actually seeing him -- her eyes filled to the brim with lust and need and hunger, could feel her tightening all around him, and he knew she was close.

“Come for me then, Gin,” He murmured softly underneath the cloak. “I want to feel you inside when it happens. I want, oh hell, I want to taste your come in my mouth.”

Ginny hoarsely gasped a string of incoherent expletives and endearments, along with Harry’s name a good number of times, as she jerked and pushed against Harry’s hand, biting her tongue hard as she came for the second time that night.

Harry covered her flushed sex with his mouth and slid his fingers out of her as her climax hit and he could taste the arousal flooding his mouth, sweet and juicey and oh so ripe on his tongue. He replaced his tongue where his fingers had previously been and heard Ginny swear over and over again as he swallowed down every last succulent drop of her orgasm.

“Bloody hell,” Ginny groaned as she finally felt him pull away, his hot breath still ghosting across her thigh. “That was so bloody amazing Harry.” She felt her knickers being slid up her legs again, watching them glide up her skin on their own in morbid fascination.

“Harry,” She said quietly, reaching out in front of her, touching what she imagined to be Harry’s face. “I love you, you know. I don’t think I ever really said it, but I do.”

“Harry?”

She reached out in front of her, but could feel nothing. She couldn’t feel or hear his breath any longer either. Across the room, the door made a quiet snicking noise and Ginny knew he was gone.

Harry paused outside Ginny’s room as the door shut behind him. He felt wretched for what he’d just done, but at the same time couldn’t find it in him to regret it. He could only wish that Ginny understood. That she knew this was for the best. That if, when everything was said and done, they were both still alive, he would take off the cloak and they could be together.

“I love you always,” Harry pressed his hand against the wood and whispered, then snuck quietly back to Ron’s room and tried harder than anything not to cry himself to sleep.

h/g

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