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#harry james potter imagines
pogueswrld · 1 year
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How about requesting for Harry, you and Harry are seeing each other but keeping it on the low and between free periods you pull him to make out and dry hump each other until he come in his pants
*•.¸♡ shadow kisses ♡¸.•*
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader
summary: EVERYONE’S OF AGE!! harry doesn’t know how to act when he wakes up desperate for his girlfriend’s touch, and yet he has to spend the entire day without her by his side. By the end of it, he’s almost ready to lose his mind for a kiss, thankfully she’s got other plans ;)
warnings: (everyone’s 18 here) hot harry 😩 this is gonna be nsfw so; make-out sesh, built-up sexual tension, vulgar language (?), dry humping, semi-public.
note: LEGIT LOSING MY MIND. GOING FERAL SO BAD RIGHT NOW. ANON ILYSM TJSHSJSJHDHD
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Dating the Chosen One definitely has its downsides, especially when no one knows, but it also had its perks.
Like sneaking into dark rooms with greedy hands and short breathes, or side glances from across rooms and tables.
It was exhilarating, truly, and it seemed like neither one of the teenagers was able to get quite enough of the other, because at the end of each day, they’d find each other in the common room with bouncing legs and fidgeting hands, waiting painfully for it to empty so they can be in each other’s arms again.
Today was the same, except Harry had awoken with the desperate need of Y/N’s touch, the realization made him let out a groan of embarrassment, and he continued to regret it after Ron and Seamus started making fun of him for it. He chucked a pillow at their heads while using another one to press against his crouch. 
He was embarrassed and had to shower in freezing cold water to calm down, but his minimal effort went down the drain when the boys went down to breakfast and his first sight was her, in her knee-long skirt brushing up her thigh, and her tie squeezing around her neck. Immediately, his face went up in flames as his mind wandered to the previous night, when he had her on her knees before the fireplace in the common room, the way her eyes glistened as she looked up at him with adoration. Suddenly the room was on fire and his shirt was suffocating and his tie was choking him.
He cleared his throat as he took his place beside Ron and Hermione, adjusting his pants as he tried to sit down comfortably. His mistake was looking up in her direction, only to find her already staring up at him with glowing eyes and a spoon buried in her mouth. She looked like the absolute embodiment of mischief, and he almost whined at the hungry look in her eyes.
He couldn’t stop her on the way to class for a quick hug or even a kiss because they didn’t share the first three classes together, and Harry cursed his luck. He couldn’t believe he’d have to spend four hours without her near, and the longer he spends away from her the more painful sitting still got. The slightest move caused friction and he has to physically hold himself back from whimpering. He’s only grateful for the robe draped across his shoulders, without it he would’ve been long caught.
By the fifth hour, Harry could almost cry just from the sight of her, and when he takes a quick sweep around the hall to make sure there was no one to spot him dragging her away, he turns back to her, his fingers wrap around her wrist, and tugs her into a dimmed hallway.
Immediately, Y/N grabs his face with her free hand and smashes her lips against his. Harry, for the first time that day, let out a high-pitched whine at the warmth of her lips against his cold ones. He let go of her wrist and grabbed her waist instead, tugging her as close as he can get her, desperate for anything from her.
“Please,” he whines against her mouth, and it sends electric shots down her body and straight to her core. “I need you, darlin’ please.”
She whines, and her hands go from cupping his face to tugging off his robe. Harry helps her let go of it, but he’s more focused on her and her body than taking off his clothes, so he pulls at her tie until it comes loose, then quickly makes his way down her button-up shirt, all while groaning and whining when she grinds herself against him. He tugs her shirt out from under her skirt before pushing it apart, exposing her bra-covered chest, he whines again before pressing a soft kiss against her lips, then making his way down her neck.
Y/N melts, she arches her back when he gets to her chest and grips his forearms when his teeth graze the bra’s fabric before tugging it down, and she moans when his hot breath meets her nipples.
Her hips continue their desperate crusade of grinding against him, and she can feel him through his trouser. She’s almost tempted to reach down and squeeze him, just to tease him, but he pushes her against the wall while scattering love bites across her chest.
She’s heaving as she soaks through her panties, and her gasps turn into moans with his name. Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, and he lets out another whine of her name, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been thinking about all morning?” he mumbles as he grinds up against her core, and a moan escapes him at the momentary relief he receives. Y/N huffs a sigh when both of his hands tighten around her hips, pulling her closer to him as he continued to brush himself against her. “I think I have a pretty clear idea.” she gasps.
Harry shakes his head as he buries it in the nook of her neck, “You,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about you. Touching me, kissing me, holding me,” he gasps when she arches her back, pushing herself against him, “I’ve thought about you on your knees, like last night, sucking me off.” his voice was hoarse and low, his eyes were closed and Y/N remembered the marvelous sight of him from the night before, completely coming apart at her hands, shaking and whining her name. She moans.
“I thought about you pushing me down on that couch, I thought about you getting on top of me and using me for your own pleasure,” the thought, the image, passed his mind once again, and he didn’t hold back the moan that bubbled up his throat. His hold on her tightened, “I need you,” he gasps, “I need you so bad.”
They were humping each other now, the pieces of fabric were the only borders separating them from one another, and Y/N was getting desperate for his touch all over, she wanted him all over. “Harry please, touch me,” she whines, and his knees almost buckle.
He pulls her off the wall and she wraps her legs around him, he turns them around and slides down the wall, allowing her to have full control over the pace of their grinding. She gasps when she pushes herself down on him, and he leans back on one arm while the other holds her hips tightly. He dares a glance down to where she’s desperately moving on him and Harry lets out another whine when he notices a darkening patch on her panties slowly marking up his dark trousers.
He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it, and from the way she’s marking up his neck with soft kisses and gasps of his name, he’s certain it won’t be much longer. When she reaches down between them and presses her hand against the bulge of his pants, that’s when he snaps. Both of his hands shoot up to her forearms and hold her tight, pausing her actions as he uncontrollably jerks upwards, his movement repeatedly bumps into her clothed clit and she throws her head back at how good it feels.
He stills after a minute and buries his face in her chest in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his chest heaving, and it takes Y/N a minute before she’s giggling in realization. She cups his jaw and slowly pushes his face off of her chest, his ears and cheeks going a bright shade of pink, “Harry Potter, did you cum in your trouser?”
Harry groans in embarrassment and hides his face in her hands, the heat transmits to her hands and she’s laughing. “Don’t laugh at me!” he whines, and she continues, “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself! You’re adorable when you’re shy, Potter.”
He rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise love.”
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emmie-tt · 4 months
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Can you write a harry potter x reader where the reader is harry gf and she got kidnapped into the malfoy Manor (in dh) and when Harry, Ron and hermione got captured there too, he finds her and he take her back to fleur and Bill cottage and he takes care of her because she got injured really bad while being there? <3 (also her having a lot of scars/marks and being insecure about them but harry will kiss them all and tell her they are perfect) and one night when she finally Trys to leave the bed (because her legs are really shaky) they go out and stay in front of the sea and they talk about their future? Sorry this is long hope you can make it <3
My Protector
Harry Potter x Reader
CW: Angst (Kinda) , Mental Problems, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of Scars, Female Reader
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How did you get here...As you lay on the cold hard ground of the Malfoy Manor your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. You had always been the quiet kid. Never causing drama. Never getting involved in drama. Never acting out. Hardly ever going to parties unless Harry had went with you.
Speaking of. Harry had been frantically searching for you, the moment he realized you were missing it felt like hi whole world stopped.
You didn't know that though. Not yet at least.
The lightheaded feeling began a few minutes ago. Whether it was from blood loss or dehydration was also unknown. You did know that it had been three days since you've had water and you also knew that gash in your forehead had been left unattended for quite a few hours so whichever was causing the lightheaded feeling was anyone's guess.
You heard a gasp from Luna Lovegood who was also being held captive but instead of reacting you ignored it choosing to focus on not passing out and praying to Godricks that someone helped and got you out of here...
The feeling of someones hands on your face brought you out of your haze and suddenly a fuzzy yet familiar voice was cutting through the silence
"Y/n...Y/n can you hear me?"
As your vision comes into focus your eyes widen as you realize who was knelt next to you.
"Harry..." you mumble as you weakly reach up and cup his face
He smiles weakly back, seeing you in so much pain and honestly so close to death...
"Hi sweetheart...I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Get you some help, alright?"
you nod slight and he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your upper torso. Picking you up bridal style he quickly makes his way out the things he noticed about the woman he loved more than anything was how much weight you had loss, the blood dripping down his arm from your forehead and that dazed almost lifeless look in your eyes.
He picks up the pace in his steps and as soon as the coast was clear he held you closer and floo you both off to the cottage.
------ At The Cottage ------
Harry quickly sat you down on the couch, the dizziness had took over and you had loss consciousness a few minutes prior. Molly gasps as she rushes over and helps Harry lay you on the couch.
She asses the wound on your head before quickly jumping into action and cleaning then stitching the rather deep wound
Harry stood at the end of the couch the whole time. His eyes never once leaving you as he watched Molly clean the wound and stitch you up.
He felt completely guilty for this whole thing, he had promised from the day he met you to protect you. You were nothing more than a ray of sunshine in his extremely dark life, the reason he lived was you and seeing you lay on the couch unconscious and injured absolutely broke him. He could not loose anyone else.
After Molly was finished she stepped back and walked over to Harry wrapping her arms around him in a tight motherly hug.
"She will be alright..." she mumbles softly into his hair as he begins to sob.
------ A Little While Later ------
Harry had fallen asleep sat on the floor next to the couch where you had been laid. His head rested uncomfortably on the edge as his hand gripped onto yours tightly. His whole body reacts when he feels you hand twitch slightly. His hands snap open and he quickly looks up at you right when your eyes slowly flutter open.
"Y-Y/n? Sweetheart, are you awake?" You groan softly as you reach up and feel at the now bandaged wound. Harry gently grabs your hand and pulls it back down, planting a soft kiss on your palm as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Hey...You're alright love...I'm right here..." He whisper softly as tears flood your eyes
"Harry..."
He stares at you sympathetically for a moment before, gently as possible, lifting you into his arms and holding you close to his chest. His hands rubbing up and down your back slowly as you sob into his shoulder where your head is resting.
He feels his own tears rise but he chokes them down to comfort you, something he knew you needed.
After a long few minutes you calm down and slowly sit up, ignoring the pounding that happens in your head at the movement. You hands wrap tightly around him and you stare down at him silently as he stares back before gently kissing your forehead leading you to let out a sigh and lay your head back down on his shoulder.
Harry noticed the shift in your personality. The silence that used to be replaced with constant chatter about things only Hermione could truly understand. The fear in your eyes that used to be full of light and shine. He noticed it all and it killed him...
"My love...Lets get you some food alright? And maybe some orange juice?"
He waits for your reply and when you nod he immediately stands with you in his arms and makes his way into the kitchen where he goes to place you in a chair only to be stopped when you tighten your grip and mutter out a soft "No..."
He stops in his tracks and stands back up with you in his arms, glancing down at your face
"No what love? You don't want me to put you down?" When you nod, confirming his question he sighs softly but obeys your wish and walks over to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of orange juice that he pours into a cup and hands to you. As you sip at the juice he quickly makes a sandwich before taking a seat at the dining table and slowly feeds you the sandwich.
When you finish it a few minutes later he lets you finish the orange juice before standing and placing the dishes in the sink, letting the magic do its thing and clean the dishes, Harry makes his way down a hall and into the room Bill had given him to stay in.
He gently lays you down in the bed causing you to let out a soft whimper, he gently kisses your forehead
"Shh sweetheart, i'm right here...Let me get you some clean clothes okay?"
You hesitantly nod and he rushes off into the closet where he grabs an old shirt of his and a random pair of boxers before quickly making his way back to you where he finds you crying.
The guilt in his gut only grows and he walks over gently rubbing your back, you climb into his lap and he instantly lets you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you gently as you sob.
Once you calm down he coaxes you off of him for just long enough to get you bathed and changed into the outfit before helping you into bed where he climbs in after you, letting you lay on top of him- rather uncomfortably, before holding you close as you fall asleep a few moments later.
And that is how most days go...
A few weeks passed and your physical condition had improved, the gash had almost completely healed, leaving a scar. All the bruises had faded and the small cuts had healed leaving their own small scars across your body.
Your mental health was another thing...While it hadn't worsened it really hadn't improved either...Harry could finally leave you alone but not for to long, you refused to leave the bed and talking still came very rarely for you.
Harry had left the room a few moment ago, to do something...He had said but truly you hadn't been listening.
Looking around the room your eyes land on the mirror hung on the wall, more specifically the reflection in the mirror. As you stared down your own reflection, seeing the large scar across your forehead caused disgust to rush over you in waves.
You slowly sit up in the bed letting the blanket fall to your waist, being in only your bra, all of the small scars that now littered your body were on full display. Your hands slowly ran over each of them, picking and pulling at them almost as if you were trying to get them off of you.
You were so lost in your own world that you didn't notice harry stepping into the room until you saw him in the mirror causing you to jump.
"What are you doing sweetheart?" He asks softly as he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around your waist after gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your skin
"N-Nothing..."
He clearly didn't believe you but instead of saying anything he gently pushed you back onto the bed and yanked the blanket off of you completely causing you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "H-Harry! What are you doing?!"
He shrugs slightly as he leans down and kisses your forehead, right on the scar. "So pretty..."
Your whole body heats up as he leans down to your stomach area and presses soft kisses to each scar he could see as he mumbles praises.
"Beautiful..."
"Gorgeous..."
"Pretty..."
Any praise he could think of was flying out of his lips as he worshiped you, your face was the so ho from being so flustered that you couldn't stand it. This was exactly what you needed...That disgusted feeling melted away with every kiss and praise he gave you.
After a moment he looks back up at you, his glasses sat on the tip of his nose almost falling off. You giggle softly pushing his glasses back up his face, a smile appearing on your face for the first time in weeks.
Harry grins and moves up peppering kisses all over your face causing the small giggles to grow even more as you gently push him away
"My sweet girl" He says softly "Wanna take a walk with me? You seem in a good mood..."
You think for a long moment about the offer before ultimately nodding and slowly pulling yourself from the bed and into a standing position.
Harry smiles quickly following you out of the bed and helping you put your shoes on before putting his own on and leading you out of the cottage, the sun hitting your skin for the first time in weeks was an amazing feeling. You soaked it in for a moment before walking down the beach towards the water where you stop at the shore line letting the water wash over your sandal covered feet.
Harry slowly approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes down on your face as you gaze out at the water
"What are you thinking about honey?"
You stay silent for a moment before leaning back against him "Our future..."
"Oh yeah? What about it?"
"I don't know...Just how- how everything is gonna end...With the war, the death eaters...he who should not be names..."
He sighs softly and kisses your cheek, before being taken you had no problem calling him Voldemort but now you were terrified..
"Nothing will happen to you again...Me, Ron and Hermione have a plane okay? Please don't worry about it..."
With a small nod you turn around in his arms and snuggle your face against his chest "How many kids do you want..?"
He looks down slightly shocked at your question before thinking for a moment "Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me...As long as I have you that's all that matters...What about you baby? How many?"
"Three...Two boys and a girl..."
He chuckles, your answer was instant with absolutely not hesitation behind it. "I'll do my best to help fulfill that dream my love..."
You giggle and slowly close your eyes as you rest against him. It finally felt like you could see a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He had been everything you needed to get through such a rough time. Your love. Your support but most importantly your protector.
THE END
Oh. My. Goodness. I think this is my best work yet, I hope this is up to your expectations love!! And I am so so sorry it took so long to get this out there!!
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heliads · 5 months
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hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!
just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo
'someone take me home ' - harry potter
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The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.
Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.
The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.
Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.
Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.
Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.
To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.
His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.
He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.
Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.
The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.
Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.
Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.
Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.
For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.
Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.
Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.
Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”
Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”
“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.
He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”
“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”
It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.
Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.
No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.
Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.
Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.
Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.
The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.
He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.
He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”
Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”
“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”
He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.
Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.
“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.
Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”
Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?” 
For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.
“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”
Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.
“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.
“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”
The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”
He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”
He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”
Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.
Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”
“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”
Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”
“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”
Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”
“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.
“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.
Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.
Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.
Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.
“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.
Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”
“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”
It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.
An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–
He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.
Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.
There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely. 
“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”
“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.
“I promise,” she smiles.
Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.
At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.
harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope
all tags list: @wordsarelife
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Imagine having a quiet night in with the Golden Trio
It was almost rare that the four of you were able to find time relax. If it wasn't school work keeping the group busy then it was the trouble you guys seemed to always find yourselves in which is why you all took advantage of these rare days to just have a peaceful and uneventful night. The Gryffindor common room was unusually empty as everyone had decided to either go to Hogsmeade or just get out of the tower to do their own things on the castle grounds which is exactly why the four of you decided to do the opposite and stay in.
Hermione had taken up residence on the long couch, reading a book she had gotten during her last trip to Hogsmeade while the rest of you decided to partake in a match of wizarding chess or at least Harry and Ron did as you decided to just watch on the sidelines. You had watched them for the first few matches as you sat at the side but having gotten bored by the fourth one, you moved to the couch with Hermione. Laying down on it, you rested your head on her lap causing her to pause for a moment and look at you as you got yourself comfortable. Meeting her eyes, you sheepishly smiled. "Read to me?"
Nodding, she went flipped through the pages to go to the beginning of the book and began reading out loud, her voice and the crackling of the fireplace being the perfect soundtrack to listen to on this quiet day.
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yashiiiiiiiii · 2 years
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TRAUMA ( HARRY X READER)
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_______________ Y/N POV I can't believe it. I have lost everyone. 
Mum died. Dad died. 
My godfather Remus died. My godmother Tonks died. 
Everything's my fault, I can't believe it. If I would have been there with them they would be alive here. They would be with me. They might be telling me how proud they are of me. 
I have moved in with my boyfriend Harry who asked me to come and live with him at Number 12 Grimmauld place after the battle ended. 
As of now I have locked myself in one of the rooms on Grimmauld place. I'm -
"Y/N open the damn door baby, I'm knocking at your door for the past 15 mins. Darling are you ok?"  Shit I don't know what to do. I can't let Harry know how weak I am.
"I-I'm okay-y ma cherié don't worry."
HARRY'S POV
My baby is in there crying I don't know what happened to her. I'm so worried for her. Even though she said she is ok I don't believe it. I can hear her sobbing. It's breaking my heart. I only have one option now to break this door. 
"Darling, I don't have any other option rather than breaking the door if you don't open it right now."
Y/N opened the door. Tears were leaking out from out from her eyes like a stream. I opened my arms for her to come and she collapsed in my arms. I kissed her forehead. 
"Hey, shh baby shh...it's ok I'm here. Yeah, everything's going to be ok. Don't worry mon amour. Shh" I whispered sweet nothingness into her ears for sometime. Kissing her forehead in between. After while she calmed down a bit. She started to take soft breaths.
"My love, will you tell me what happened. I won't force you if you aren't comfortable, I'm worried for you sweetheart. Seeing you crying like this broke my heart baby. I never want to see you cry."
Y/N POV
Hearing my boyfriend's words melted my heart. 
"I-I-I just-t blame myself you know. It feels like everything's my fault." pausing I sobbed " I feel like if I would have been there then I would have been able to save them. I would still be able to hug them. I would be able to tell them how much I love them. But-but I don't even have another chance. You know my love, I can imagine what my dad would be saying 'Y/N, my sweetie I'm so proud of you. I'm so so so proud that you can't even imagine. You helped in defeating Voldemort. You are so brave my child. I'm so proud to have a child like you.' Harry, but now I can't, I just can't hear them say anything. It hurts Harry. So much."
Harry hugged me tightly, kissed my forehead and said " Bubba I know how you feel but you aren't the one to be blamed yeah?! The one to be blamed is Voldemort. He is dead now. We defeated him. And you know what, your parents and godparents died as heroes. Everyone who lost their lives in the battle died as a hero. Now all the marauders are up there united. Remus and Chris are now united with my dad and Sirius. And Emily must be having a tea party with my mom and Tonks. You know they are now in a safe place and watching us from above. They are happy and it would kill them to see you sad like this. Now my sweetest angel I want to see the smile that you always have on your face." 
I understood what Harry said. They fought in the battle on their own choice, they knew the risks of fighting but they didn't gave up hope and fought bravely. Me crying here would only make them sad so I smiled. 
I love my Harry so much. He is the best person in this whole world. He always makes me feel safest. He always loves me and never judges me. He always prioritise me over anyone. 
"Yayyyy! That's the smile that I love on my baby's face." saying this he kissed my forehead, then my temples, then my nose, my cheeks and finally my lips. The kiss was a soft one which dedicated his love for me. 
"Now my queen what do you say to the idea of me making you Y/FF?" I couldn't be more happy that Harry asked me this, I excitedly replied smiling "Yes bubba, I'll love that."
He came over kissed me one more time and then attached our foreheads. "I love you sweetheart. Please don't ever cry, it breaks my heart seeing you like that." "I love you more bubba and I won't promise." "Ah that's not possible." "What do you mean my love ?" "About you loving me more. Everyone knows I love u the most." saying this he kissed my lips once more and left to kitchen without saying anything else. 
I can't help the smile that came on my lips. 
One thing's sure for me. I LOVE MY HARRY SO MUCH!
_________________________________________
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thatboisus · 3 months
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“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months
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New Romantics
James Potter x slytherin fem!reader
Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.
Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3
Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James
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When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.
"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.
You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.
"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused. 
"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.
Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.
"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.
Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens. 
"Potter!" you slur.
James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny. 
You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.
You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.  
"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.
"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"
"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.
Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.
James isn't at all convinced you're okay. 
Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can. 
"She's just clumsy." 
"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.
Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"
"Yeah, actually, I do."
At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.
"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.
James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.
He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?" 
"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead. 
"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.
"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."
James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.
"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces. 
"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he," 
You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.
James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.
He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.
James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."
Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears. 
Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.
"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."
James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.
But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head. 
James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?" 
He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway. 
James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"
James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.
"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.
James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?" 
The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.
"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.
James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."
He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"
"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy." 
And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you. 
Ever. 
* * *
"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."
James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.
"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention." 
James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals. 
He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."
Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door. 
When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.
He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet. 
If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this. 
With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.
Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.
Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him. 
Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me." 
Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?" 
James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"
If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.
Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.
Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically. 
"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.
A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.
"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you. 
His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"
Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"
James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."
You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest. 
"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"
You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"
Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say. 
James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."
James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.
"Yeah, that."
"Well, I really like you too."
Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"
James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"
You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."
James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."
You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?" 
"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"
You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.
Fuck, he's fucked. 
You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.
"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over. 
When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."
You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say. 
James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt." 
"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."
"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.
It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.
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sleyu · 9 months
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in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them
i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.
the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.
it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.
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daddiesdrarryy · 15 days
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James: How do you feel about children?
Regulus: They’re okay, I guess. I mean, if I saw one, I wouldn’t throw a rock at it
James: Why would you throw a rock at a child?
Regulus: I just said I wouldn’t!
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sun1seeker · 1 month
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hc that when regulus met james for the first time he secretly loved his glasses so regulus transfigured a random cup into a replica of james’ glasses
but one day he forgot to take them off and barty & evan saw him wearing them and made fun of him for years after that
they turned it into an inside joke where they only ever called regulus ‘four eyes’ around james and everyone was so confused why regulus was turning 10 different shades of red
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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
Text
Drunk In Love
masterlist
pairing: harry potter x female reader
warnings: fluff, mentions of drinking
summary: harry got drunk and when his friend dropped him off to you, he forgot you were his girlfriend
a/n: i thought this was cute, currently watching poa while writing this
song: kiss me - sixpence none the richer
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You were lying in bed with your pajamas while reading a book. Downstairs there was a Gryffindor party in the common room, but you had a bit of a headache so you decided staying in your dorm would be better.
Your reading was interrupted when you heard knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" you call as you place the book down and stand up.
"It's Ron... and Harry!"
You go and open the door and smile at two of your favorite people.
"Hello," you smile at them.
Harry's eyes were closed as he leaned on the door frame and Ron was holding him up with on arm.
"Hi, I came to bring Harry. He had too much Firewhisky and then started to shout about how he wanted you, so I figured it was best to bring him here before he embarrasses himself more," he quickly explains.
"Classic Harry, thanks for bringing him Ron," you laugh.
Ron pulls him and places him in your arms. You thank him again, he tells you to come get him if you need anything and he goes back downstairs to the party.
"Hi Harry," you say while brushing some hair off his forehead with your fingers.
"Ah! Don't touch my hair," he says in alarm with slurred words.
"Why not," you frown.
"Only my girlfriend can do that"
"Oh really?" you grin.
"Yep," he hiccups.
You sit him down on the bed and fix his glasses that were falling down his nose, you kiss his forehead and he lets out a shriek.
"My girlfriend is going to kill me," he mumbles in horror and wipes away your kiss with his hand.
"Who is this girlfriend of yours?"
"Y/n," he sighs dreamily falling back onto the bed.
"Wanna tell me about her?"
"She's perfect. She's so sweet too, shes like- like- a rainbow of happiness"
"A rainbow of happiness?" you giggle at his words.
"Mhm, she is like- so pretty that I'm jealous, and everyone loves her. She plays with my hair, and holds my hand everywhere, and I love kissing her. Her mouth is so amazing-" Harry smiles while he thinks of you.
You started to blush at his words and he continued to ramble about the things he loves about you.
"I'm going to marry her one day," he blurts out with red cheeks.
"W-what?"
"Do you think she would marry me? Oh! I need to start planning," he stands up and stumbles to the desk to find paper.
"Woah, woah, you can plan another time, and I'm sure she would be more than happy to marry you," you tell him as you bring him back to the bed.
You go to take his shirt off to change him into his pajamas, but he tugs his shirt back down.
"Don't look!" Harry exclaims, worry clear on his face.
"Fine, if I close my eyes will you change into these clothes?"
"Yes, turn and cover your eyes. No peeking!"
"No peeking, got it," you laugh.
He changes fast and he tells you that you can look again.
"Y/n is the only person who can see me like that. Not a random girl in my room- do you think she'll be mad at me because you're here?"
"Umm- lets just get your teeth and hair brushed"
"Okay," he sighs.
You bring him to the bathroom and hand him his toothbrush and watch him struggle to keep his eyes open.
You brush his hair and when you both finish you two lay on the bed.
His eyes are falling shut as you hand him water to drink. He spills it on himself when he misses his mouth. You laugh and say a spell to dry him and the bed.
"Night, mystery person. Tell y/n I said goodnight and I love her if you see her," he whispers drifting off to sleep.
"Okay, goodnight Harry," you kiss his head.
The next morning you had so much fun teasing him about the previous night.
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sinnersami · 3 months
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James being obsessed with your tits
james could shamelessly admit that he was in love with your boobs. what was there to not love about the pair — he could hold, squeeze and caress them for just about forever and still not get bored.
it was almost embarrassing knowing how hard he got at just the mere thought of seeing your naked chest, nipples hard and puckered up for him at even the slightest touch from his fingertips.
but there was something even more attractive about you knowing that he loved them. god did it turn him on when you used it to your advantage.
“wanna fuck my tits ?” your tone didn’t go hidden by james’ ears but all he could focus on was you not waiting for an answer and instead the manner in which you slipped off your top to reveal your bare breasts with such ease.
looking up at him with those knowing eyes already had him hooked — he’d have to be brainless if he thought he could ever say no to having you on your knees as you slid his cock inbetween your boobs.
“shit, baby…”
the specatcular view had had him starstruck, thighs clenched while you shuffled closer to him; squeezing your tits to hold his cock tighter. you’d already jerked him off teasingly slow, dragging your palm up and down while gazing at him lustfully.
“fuuuuck…” james was a mess, your hand holding his heavy cock along with you flaunting your tits only making him more weak; low moans slipping past his lips when you moved his tip across both your nipples and deciding to fully envelop his length between your slit.
he’d only become more desperate, finding it hard not to thrust his hips into your boobs that were held in your arms. the feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing more intense and he saw you watch eagerly, biting on your lips as you moved your tits around his shaft with more pressure and speed.
“ugh, i-“ he couldn’t stop his mouth dropping, pants being heard from him as strips of cum painted your skin. a satisfied sigh left your mouth while you continued to tease his poor tip by swiping it against your nipples.
send me a request !
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emmie-tt · 5 months
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Series -------------
to be wrote...
Oneshots -------------
Just Friends... My Protector more to come...
AUs -------------
to be wrote...
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heliads · 2 years
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harry potter x reader where reader has a reputation of being selfish or heartless and harry wants nothing to do with them until he sees them comforting a first year and pranking or threatening the person who hurt them and then harry just keeps pursuing the reader
just keeps pursuing them, anon?
masterlist
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Harry Potter is in a spectacularly bad mood, and the school year has barely even begun. He’s supposed to be having a fresh start this year, like if he just funnels his attention into doing the things that he at least halfway enjoys, Harry will be able to avoid the other things pressing at his attention, such as the fact that the Dark Lord is back and no one seems to believe him.
It is, however, far easier to fly into a rage because of something as simple as Quidditch as opposed to spending his hours fretting about where Voldemort is now, so Harry latches onto this latest irritation with great haste. Nothing is trying to kill him at the moment, so he’s free to do as he pleases. That’s how it usually works around here, at any rate.
For everyone else, however, Harry just appears to be annoyed with something yet again. He makes his way into the Gryffindor common room after arguing with the Fat Lady for far too long (she swore that he was mangling the pronunciation of the latest password so badly that it was wrong, he believed otherwise) and slumps down into the nearest plush armchair.
A voice interrupts his morose staring contest with the fire. “I take it Quidditch practice didn’t go well today?”
If there’s one person who has never had the time to be intimidated by Harry’s various spurts of anger, it would be his closest friend. Hermione Granger barely spares him a glance from above the pages of their Transfiguration textbook, even though they have no homework thus far requiring her to read through such an abundance of pages.
Homework is, however, the last thing on Harry’s mind right now, just as it always is. “That’s the problem, Hermione, there was no Quidditch practice. I didn’t think any of the teams had booked the field yet, but when I went to sign up for the timeslot I wanted, there was already a name there.”
Hermione frowns. “Who was it, then? Don’t tell me Slytherin’s already started putting their players through their paces. They don’t even need to try out new students to fill the empty slots on their teams, we all know everyone just buys their way in anyway.”
Harry chuckles at the venom in her tone. Looks like Harry’s fervent house-based Quidditch superiority has started to leach into Hermione as well.
“It wasn’t Slytherin, actually, it was another student. They wanted the field booked so they and a group of friends could practice for fun, not even for the Quidditch cup.” He complains.
Hermione looks at him with a meaningful grin. “Why do I get the feeling I know exactly who that person was?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it was Y/N. Stop looking at me like that.”
Hermione spreads her hands casually. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
They both know that’s not entirely true, though. See, Harry’s been having troubles with Y/N L/N since their first year at Hogwarts. They’re known around the school for being vindictive and cruel, barely a shard of heart left beating in their chests. Y/N may be another Gryffindor, but Harry feels no more connected to them than a Slytherin.
In truth, Harry isn’t acting on much except rumors to form his opinion of Y/N. That’s why Hermione keeps teasing him about them, anyway. She thinks he’s being ridiculous to judge someone based on the gossip people tell for fun. As a victim of the grapevine himself, Harry knows that most rumors aren’t true, but from the few glimpses he gets of Y/N, he hasn’t seen anything to prove those whispers wrong.
Plus, he now gets to blame them on the lack of practice time, so Harry grouses with pleasure. “All the same, I really needed that field. If we’re going to win the Quidditch cup, we need to be ready. I could have used some extra practice time before we start tryouts for the year.”
Hermione gives a rather exasperated sigh and returns to her textbook. “We all know you’ll be fine, Harry. Besides, I’d wager that Y/N has just as much desire to practice with their friends as you do.”
Harry can’t exactly argue with that, so he switches the conversation to safer subjects and does his best to let the morning fade from his mind. Hermione even manages to cajole him into studying, a miracle of its own accord.
In fact, Harry ends up being so productive that afternoon that he breezes through the homework he has left. When Sunday rolls around and the entirety of Gryffindor House panics about all the work they’ve procrastinated until the last minute, Harry is left sitting around as he waits for everyone to cram in their essays and exam prep before Monday morning.
He wonders if this is how Hermione feels all the time, free to sit around and watch as her fellow students frantically scribble out sentences on everything from the beneficial properties of mandrakes to the educational exploits of Maeve, the famed Irish witch.
At last, when Harry’s impatience gets the best of him, he slips out of the common room, the door to the portrait hole thudding shut to the tune of dozens of scratching quills. He ambles aimlessly down the stone corridors, not entirely sure where he’s going, only that he’d like his journey to take up quite a good bit of time.
Harry would be content with passing his hours doing nothing at all, a rather well regarded tradition in every Hogwarts house but especially Gryffindor, yet when he emerges from a dusty stairwell near the eastern side of the castle, he discovers that this may not be the case.
There aren’t that many students out and about at this hour, which means that the scene unfolding before him likely wasn’t meant to be witnessed by anyone, least of all Harry. A small, somewhat mousy first year student was walking down the hall when he was accosted by a trio of much older students, perhaps fifth or sixth years that haven’t yet graduated from the thrill of tormenting younger kids.
They’ve cornered him in a less traveled part of the castle, one holding a wand to the poor boy’s throat while the other two casually search through the pockets of his robe in the hopes of finding something interesting. As Harry watches, one of the older boys holds up a golden Galleon that winks in the light, and pockets the coin with a grin.
Harry’s just made up his mind to do something about it when someone else storms onto the scene. Of all the people to rescue this trembling first year, Harry can freely admit that he wasn’t expecting it to be Y/N L/N, yet here they are, rolling up their sleeves in irritation and pointing their wand at the offending boys.
They call out hexes without a second thought, and moments later, the older boys are clutching faces that have suddenly broken out in intense hives, or fingernails that won’t stop growing. The bullies take off in the opposite direction, practically tripping over themselves in their haste to get away.
Y/N stows their wand away once more, then pauses to retrieve the Galleon from where it had fallen to the ground in the kerfuffle.
“I think you’ll want this back,” they say calmly, and hold the coin out to the younger boy.
He blinks at them in surprise, then carefully tucks it back inside the pocket of his robe and murmurs a quiet thank you.
Y/N just smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Those boys are nothing but trouble, honestly. The good thing is that those spells won’t wear off for quite some time. I’d like to see them finish their homework with nails so long they can’t hold a quill, wouldn’t you?”
The younger boy laughs tremulously, but seems to be doing better, especially when Y/N offers to walk them back to their common room. Neither the younger boy nor Y/N seem to have noticed Harry from where he still stands, half hidden in the shadows of the stairwell, so he’s free to gawk as he pleases.
He remains there for a few minutes longer, stunned over what he’s just seen. Harry thought that Y/N was supposed to be totally heartless, but heartless people wouldn’t go to the trouble of protecting and then comforting first year students.
He shakes his head to clear his mind of the troublesome thoughts and continues on his way. It appears that Harry might have misjudged Y/N after all. This is especially true given the rumors circulating around them with such frequency. There’s no way Y/N hasn’t heard the gossip, but they couldn’t care less about what others think of them. In all honesty, Harry’s kind of envious of their unflappable demeanor.
Perhaps that’s why he’s thinking about the encounter hours and even days later. Harry starts to keep a more careful eye out, and soon he’s noticing even more things than before. Y/N talks happily with their friends as they go to class, they pay attention even when facing down a blathering Professor Binns, and they enjoy practicing on their broom even though they’re not on the Quidditch team.
Harry doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but he can’t escape the all-encompassing evidence that Y/N L/N is actually a really great person. It practically rocked his world, and he must not be doing as good a job of disguising his shock as he thinks, because barely a week after seeing Y/N in that hallway, Ron confronts him about it.
They’re sitting at the long Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, eating some breakfast before they start the day. Harry is sneaking the occasional glance at Y/N, who he can just make out farther down the table. His surreptitious surveillance is interrupted, however, by the sound of his own best friend calling him out.
“Listen, mate, are you actually going to hear a word I’m saying or just keep staring at Y/N?”
Harry blinks in surprise and dimly remembers that Ron had been talking about something, perhaps the Chudley Cannons setting a record by winning one game out of the last seven.
He does his best to sound present in the conversation. “Of course I’m hearing you. Chudley Cannons, right? I’m glad they’re doing well.”
Ron sighs. “We stopped talking about the Cannons ten minutes ago. You really are distracted by Y/N, aren’t you?”
Harry freezes. “No, I’m not. What are you talking about?”
Ron exchanges a significant glance with Hermione over the front page of her newspaper. “See,” she says matter-of-factly, “I told you.”
Harry frowns. “Told you what?”
Hermione arches a brow. “That you’re lost on Y/N, obviously.”
“I’m not lost on them,” Harry protests, although it sounds weak even to his own ears.
Ron and Hermione exchange yet another glance, which is starting to irritate him. 
“Of course you’re not,” Ron says, although Harry gets the feeling the boy doesn’t actually mean it, “you’re just a little sidetracked. How about you talk to them or something instead of just staring? Seems like it would be a much healthier approach.”
Hermione bites back a laugh at Ron’s choice of words. “I think what we’re trying to say is that Y/N would definitely be open to talking to you if you just approached them. See, they’re leaving the table now. This is your chance.”
Harry stands up impulsively. “Yeah,” he says, “I think it is.”
Before he can stop himself, he hurries out of the Great Hall after Y/N. He catches up to them after a few seconds, and Y/N turns to greet him at the sound of his approaching footsteps. 
“Hi, Y/N, how are you?” Harry asks, wondering why on earth he can’t seem to have a conversation past basic parlor conversation.
Y/N, however, seems or simply chooses not to notice. “I’m doing pretty well, actually. Same with that first year from the hall, by the way. I think I’ve had success with chasing off those boys.”
Harry nearly chokes on his own surprise. “What?” He asks, trying not to sound suspicious.
Y/N has the audacity to grin. “I know you were there last week, by the way. I did see you moving to stop them, sorry I got there first.”
Harry wonders if they think he’s weird for watching the whole encounter. “I’m glad the boy is doing well,” he offers, and they nod.
“I think he just didn’t know how to stand up to people. It turns out most everyone around here isn’t nearly as scary as they seem. All you have to do is talk to them.” They say.
Harry nods solemnly. “I’m starting to figure that out for myself.”
Y/N laughs, and Harry can’t help but smile along with them. “I’m glad to hear it.”
They’ve reached the base of one of the moving staircases right now, and Harry realizes with a panic that if he wants to say something, he’d better do it now.
He calls out to Y/N before he can stop himself. “Do you want to go out with me? You know, just to hang out sometime.”
They pause with their foot on the first step, then turn back with a grin. “I’d like that quite a bit,” they say, and Harry feels his entire chest lighten.
“Alright, then,” he says, “how about tomorrow night?”
Y/N’s eyes spark in the light from a nearby window. “Tomorrow night sounds wonderful.”
Harry waves goodbye, then heads back to the Great Hall with a smile on his face. As it turns out, he’s got a date.
harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @frenchgirlinlondon
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singmyaubade · 1 year
Text
No Longer Yours
James Potter x Female!Reader
IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)
A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!
Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?
Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.
"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."
She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."
You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."
You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.
"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."
Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.
You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.
And then you got a letter from him saying,
Dear Y/n,
Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?
Sincerely,
Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.
You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.
Bullshit.
"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."
"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"
You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.
She shook her head, "Be safe!"
You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.
You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.
When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.
Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.
But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.
But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.
You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.
Compartment 222.
It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.
You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"
They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.
"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.
You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"
You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.
Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"
"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.
"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.
"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."
You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.
"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.
Your mouth agape, "Lily."
"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."
"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.
"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.
"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."
The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.
You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.
"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.
"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"
"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.
You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.
You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.
"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.
"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."
"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.
"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.
"Give him hell."
"So do it." She said.
They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.
And you had to start not caring about him.
"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.
Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.
Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.
Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.
You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.
You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.
He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.
"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.
"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.
"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.
"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.
"He insisted," Remus shrugged.
"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.
"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.
Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.
"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.
"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.
"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.
Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"
"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.
"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.
Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"
Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"
Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.
"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.
"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.
"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.
You could already tell it was going to be a long year.
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After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.
You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.
"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.
"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.
"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.
You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.
"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.
When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.
"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.
You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.
"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.
You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.
"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.
"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."
You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.
"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.
You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."
He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."
Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.
"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"
He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.
For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.
His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.
Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.
You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.
Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.
You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.
A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.
Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.
What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?
It was stupid and pathetic.
You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.
So you did.
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You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.
You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.
You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.
You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.
You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.
You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.
The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.
They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.
You never considered yourself a liar.
The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.
You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.
You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.
You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.
"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."
You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.
"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.
"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.
He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"
"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.
"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.
You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"
"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.
"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.
"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.
"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.
"Meadows on a date with me."
You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."
"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.
"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.
"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"
"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.
"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.
Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.
You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.
You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.
"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.
"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.
You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.
"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."
"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.
Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.
Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.
Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.
This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.
"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.
"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.
Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.
You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.
James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.
He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.
"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.
He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.
"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.
"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.
You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"
He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.
"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.
"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.
He didn't stop.
"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."
"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.
His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.
Did you really win?
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A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.
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hollowdeath · 4 months
Text
obsession (hjp)
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.
content warning: smut!!! perverted thoughts/acts, shame, masturbation, stalking, obsession, yearning/pining, intoxication, jealousy, stealing panties, dry humping, cumming in pants, oral sex, overstimulation, penetration, creampie
a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...
song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary
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harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.
there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.
the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.
though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.
harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.
to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.
voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.
the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.
applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.
it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…
ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.
in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.
ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.
harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.
harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.
harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.
but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.
his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.
another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.
though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.
ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.
as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.
it's you.
you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.
"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.
you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.
"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."
he looks unimpressed with your tone.
"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.
harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.
he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."
you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.
rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.
somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.
you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.
something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.
his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.
finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.
looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.
harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.
he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.
you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.
it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.
as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.
but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.
quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.
"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"
it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.
looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.
harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.
"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.
"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.
"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.
harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.
he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.
"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.
you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.
he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.
harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.
before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.
well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.
he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.
and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.
as soon as he walked in, he saw you.
how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.
"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.
he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.
you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.
he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.
after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.
that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.
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weeks later, harry is a wreck.
you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.
you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.
you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.
and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.
of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.
a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.
if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.
in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.
not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.
he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.
see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.
he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.
that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.
harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.
but now, things are different.
he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.
all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.
this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.
this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.
so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?
you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.
"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.
harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.
"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.
as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.
harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.
he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.
he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.
"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.
you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.
that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.
as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.
cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.
he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?
except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?
as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.
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it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.
you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.
you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.
"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."
harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.
you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.
yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.
the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.
when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.
you were just. so. hot.
your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.
to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.
"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.
he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.
"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.
harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."
as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?
on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.
you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.
at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.
and so do a few other guys.
harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.
harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.
you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.
on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.
as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?
he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.
"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.
"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.
what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.
before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.
you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.
he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.
his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.
just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.
the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.
you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.
he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.
he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.
harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.
"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.
"help me?" you ask seductively.
harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?
but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.
"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.
harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.
but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.
"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"
harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.
"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.
well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.
but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.
"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.
harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.
he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.
"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."
you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.
"i'm sorry," you say softly.
harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.
you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"
you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.
"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.
harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.
harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.
perfect, perfect, perfect.
your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.
he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.
you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.
he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.
what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.
as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.
"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.
you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.
"you're leaving me?"
harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.
"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.
you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.
"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.
you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.
he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.
"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.
he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.
within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.
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you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.
"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.
he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.
"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"
harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.
he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.
harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.
"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.
"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.
"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.
"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.
the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.
"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.
his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.
"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.
you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.
"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.
harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.
he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.
"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.
"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.
your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.
"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.
"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.
you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.
"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.
harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.
"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.
"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.
"so don't stress about it, yeah?"
harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.
you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.
"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.
harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.
they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.
he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.
for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.
before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.
he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.
his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.
he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.
you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.
his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.
you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.
harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.
you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.
so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.
you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.
at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.
after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"
you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."
when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.
harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.
but, now that he has them…
keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.
his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.
finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.
just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.
this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.
as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.
you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…
he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.
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it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.
spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.
sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.
the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.
"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.
harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."
you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.
as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."
you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.
you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.
"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.
amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.
"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.
you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.
"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.
"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."
harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."
professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."
after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.
"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.
"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."
harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.
"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.
you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.
"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"
harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.
"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.
you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.
if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.
you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.
you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.
"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.
harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.
harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.
your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.
harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.
"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.
you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.
harry could've died happy at that moment.
he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.
for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…
harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.
he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.
once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.
he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.
harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.
he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.
he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.
as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.
he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.
for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.
"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.
as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.
you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.
after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.
harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.
"[y/n]?" he asks.
harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.
harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.
harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.
you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.
yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.
he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."
the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.
harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.
"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.
there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.
"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.
"oh! um…" you start nervously.
"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.
of fucking course you did, harry thinks.
"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.
thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."
if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.
"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.
he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.
as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"
harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.
sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.
harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.
upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.
harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.
he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.
you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"
harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.
"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.
harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.
"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.
"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.
"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.
but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.
sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.
before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.
as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.
when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.
harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.
"harry, have you been working out?"
his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.
"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.
you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.
"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.
he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.
harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.
"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.
you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.
after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."
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it was finally your birthday.
harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.
he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.
you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.
as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.
soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.
when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.
your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.
"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.
"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.
"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.
you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.
"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.
harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.
you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."
"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"
after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.
he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"
harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.
his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.
you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.
harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."
you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.
he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.
you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.
harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.
when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.
you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.
he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.
he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.
after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.
your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.
the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.
you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.
harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?
his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.
he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.
"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.
harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.
you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.
harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.
"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.
"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.
you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.
shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.
"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.
"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.
one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.
"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.
"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.
"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.
you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.
harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.
as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.
"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.
"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.
"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.
you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.
"i love you too, [y/n]."
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it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.
you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.
it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.
you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.
"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."
"you're beautiful."
you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."
harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.
as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.
harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.
"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"
he can't resist when you ask nicely.
he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.
"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.
"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.
"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.
harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.
"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.
"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.
you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.
you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"
harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.
after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.
you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.
harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.
you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.
harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.
"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.
harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.
"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.
he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.
you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.
"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.
harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"
you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.
"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.
soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.
you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.
his mouth is watering just looking at you.
he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.
he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.
you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.
"i-i've never done this before." he admits.
you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.
"just enjoy yourself."
harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.
but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.
you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.
harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.
"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.
"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.
he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.
"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.
you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.
"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.
he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.
"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."
you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.
"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.
"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.
that's all it takes for harry.
trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.
after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.
"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"
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by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.
being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.
it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.
not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.
in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.
the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.
thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.
but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.
everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.
it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.
after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.
what he finds instead makes him see red.
thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.
that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.
you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.
before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.
you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.
"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.
harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.
harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."
thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.
"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.
as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."
and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.
walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.
you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.
you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.
you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.
he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.
"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.
he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.
as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.
"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.
"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.
"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.
you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.
"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."
harry smiles. no promises.
as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.
harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.
while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.
he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.
"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.
"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"
harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.
"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.
harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."
you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…
harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…
you were just so, so attracted to him right now.
"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.
the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.
he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.
you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.
you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.
as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.
you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.
but this time, harry was hungry for you.
not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.
harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.
you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.
as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.
he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.
"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.
watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.
"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.
"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.
"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.
your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.
he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.
after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.
"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."
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[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]
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