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darks-ink · 2 years

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Matt the Cat

Based on the “Matt is a cat” AU by @somegrumpynerd and @keeningthoughts / @keen-arts. A lot of scenes and plot points are taken from their various posts, as well as some (bits of) conversation. I've really enjoyed seeing their posts cross my dash and while watching Uno: Infinite this weekend got inspired to take a shot at writing a short one-shot for the AU. Anyway I kinda missed the mark on the "short" part but it was fun, so. Enjoy!

Sometimes you just have to revisit the fandom that first got you to write fanfics, back in *checks watch* 2016. Anyway I also haven't written AH fics since then so apologies if I didn't quite get everyone right.

Fandom: Achievement Hunter (RPF) Rating: Gen Words: 8,699 Additional Tags: Fake AH Crew, Alternate universe, Humor, Friendship, Mistaken identity, Canon-typical shenanigans

Summary: Hearing the stories of new crew members Jeremy and Trevor, the Fakes quickly decided that this "Matt" must be their cat. It was the only logical assumption! They were mistaken.

Also on AO3!

---

The door clicked shut behind Trevor, and he looked at the people already in the room. The Fake AH Crew were a fearsome presence, even if he had already been accepted into their midst. Him, Jeremy, standing by his side, and Matt, safe at home.

“Finally,” the big man himself, Geoff Ramsey, sighed, waving the two of them further into the room. “Come on, grab a seat. We’ve been waiting forever.”

“Well, you could’ve sent the address a little earlier than five minutes beforehand,” Jeremy snarked back, then immediately went pale as they realized what they’d done.

But Jack Pattillo, the crew’s second, just grinned back. “I like these guys. We’re keeping them, right?”

“We hired them already, I sure fucking hope so.” Geoff shot her a tired look, beckoning them inwards. “Come on dickheads, go sit down.”

“You already gave them the address to our apartment anyway,” Michael Jones pointed out, leaning back in his chair. “Bit late to tell them to fuck off now.”

“Unless we killed them,” Jack said, fake-casually.

“Please don’t.” Trevor pulled back a chair so he could sit down, and saw Jeremy doing the same from the corner of his eye. “I like being alive, personally.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully. “And it’s just the two of you, right?”

“Us, and Matt back home,” Jeremy answered dutifully, shifting in their seat to look more casual than they likely felt. “We’re all sharing the same apartment.”

“Right,” she said, a slight crease between her brows. Trevor couldn’t place its meaning. He knew it wasn’t something about the three of them living together—the crew had a similar living situation—but he didn’t know what else. Maybe that Matt, as the hacker, was staying home instead of coming over to meet the rest of the crew? Maybe they should’ve brought him here, and then back home to his set-up?

“Anyway, Geoff, go ahead and tell us the plan before you burst.”

He heaved a gusty sigh. “Yes, Jack, thank you. If we can all please focus on the job instead of the new hires?” Geoff looked around the room, then nodded resolutely. “Good. Here’s what we’re doing—"

---

Lindsay shifted slightly, leaning against their car, fingers rattling against the side of their phone. On its screen a baking video played, which they were half paying attention to. Well. Maybe a little more than half. That was fine! They could multi-task.

It had been a few weeks since their new crew members, Trevor and Jeremy, had joined. They were glad for it—the two of them had been a lot of fun to have around, and had come out of their shells quickly. Trevor looked so serious and dry but had quickly shown himself to have quick wit and a delightful weirdness to him, and Lindsay wouldn’t say no to having another non-binary crewmember around, especially one as fun as Jeremy.

Not to mention the sheer chaos those two had introduced by mentioning someone called “Matt”, who apparently lived with them, and then never saying anything else about him. Well. They thought Matt was a him. Quite frankly, they didn’t know anything about this ‘Matt’, outside of the fact that he—they?—lived with Trevor and Jeremy.

The sound of a car door thrown shut made them look up, automatically pausing the video on their phone. Speak of the devil.

Trevor threw the other door of the car shut, turning to Jeremy. “Did you give Matt water before we left?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed, shouldering their bag. “He was sleeping on the desk again when I went in.”

“He’s gonna hurt himself one of these days doing that,” Trevor grumbled, shaking his head. “He has a perfectly fine bed!”

“But why sleep in a bed if you can sleep on a desk?” Jeremy grinned, and Trevor just clicked his tongue in response as the two of them came up to Lindsay. “Hey Lindsay. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

They stuffed their phone into their pocket, the newly gained information running through their mind. “It’s fine, that’s the downside of not having you guys in the apartment yet.”

It all made sense now! Obviously Matt wasn’t a person who Trevor and Jeremy were keeping in the dark—or had informed without telling the crew. Matt was a pet. And, by the sound of it, he might’ve been a cat, even! What other pet would sleep on desks?

“True, true.” Trevor nodded at the car they were still leaning against. “Are we driving further on from here?”

“Nah, it’s just around the corner.” They pushed themself away from the car, and mentally shoved the newly gained revelation away as well. Excitement about cats would have to wait until after the job. But! They would definitely bring it up with the rest. If they invited Trevor and Jeremy into the apartment with them, obviously the two would bring their cat, and then the crew would finally have their long-awaited pet!

And Gavin would be thrilled if they gained a crew cat!

---

“You can’t just keeping saying he’s a cat without proof, Lindsay!”

“Why not? It’s the truth!” They waved their hands around, gesturing wildly. “Besides, what proof? They said it, isn’t that enough?”

“Did they say Matt is a cat, though?” Gavin pointed out, frowning. He didn’t think Lindsay would lie about this on purpose, but, well. Sometimes things happened.

A lot of times things happened. This crew really wasn’t good at clear communication.

They rolled their eyes. “As good as. But if you don’t believe me, ask yourself.” They pointed. “See, there’s Jeremy.”

He followed their finger and, indeed, there was Jeremy. Gavin waved at them, “Oi, Jeremy! Come over for a sec, will you?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a moment.” They came over, looking between him and Lindsay. “What’s up, Gav?”

“You have a cat, right?” Lindsay asked, grinning at Jeremy. “Can we see a picture?”

Jeremy blinked, visibly confused. “Yeah…? I mean, sure.” They pulled their phone out of their pocket, swiftly unlocking it and swiping through the gallery.

“Let’s see… Oh, this is a good one.” They turned the phone around, showing the two of them the screen. On it was a photo of a longhaired tabby, lazing on a cat bed. “One of the few times I’ve been him actually using that cat bed.”

“Oh, what a cutie!” Lindsay complimented, adoration heavy in their voice. And Gavin had to agree. It was a very cute cat. He… He really kind of missed having a cat. Unfortunately neither he nor Lindsay had been able to convince Geoff to get a shared crew cat for the apartment. Or any kind of pet, really. Geoff kept countering that having the lot of them was basically the same as having pets.

“He’s great,” he chimed in. “Thanks Jeremy. If you guys ever move in, will you bring him?”

“That’s the plan.” Jeremy pocketed their phone again, looking between the two of them. “Uh. Was that all?”

He offered an awkward grin. “Yeah, sorry. We were just curious.”

“Ah, that’s fine. I wasn’t in a rush anyway.” Jeremy inclined their head. “But I’ll get going then. Have a good day, Gav, Lindsay.”

“You too! Thanks for showing us your cat!” Lindsay waved them goodbye, and they watched as Jeremy left. “See, I told you.”

Michael snorted, still lounging on a chair behind them. “Yeah Gav, they told you. That’s what you get for doubting Lindsay.”

“Like you believed them,” Gavin countered, rolling his eyes. “Come on. It’s not my bloody fault this crew is rife with miscommunication.”

“Well, not this time.” Lindsay pulled a haughty expression, looking down on him. “Next time, you’ll believe me right from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he agreed easily. “Next time, no matter how ridiculous, I won’t doubt you.”

---

“Ugh,” Geoff grumbled, pulling the next sheet of paper towards him. He had hired an entire team of people to deal with the boring bureaucratic part of running a criminal gang, and still he got tons of paperwork to deal with.

Stupid. Why had he ever agreed to this stupid idea. He should’ve just made Jack boss. She never had to deal with this bullshit anymore. He would’ve made a great right-hand man to her!

He looked at the paper. Ah. Crew payroll. At least this was easy. Just check over it to make sure everything made sense, then sign off on it. Easy peasy.

Oh, yeah. This was the first payroll since they hired Trevor and Jeremy, wasn’t it? He’d have to take a good look at it, then, to make sure everything was right. He trusted the B-team to do everything right, but this would be just the right moment to sneak something in.

Yep, both of their new crew members had been added. Good, good. And. Uh.

“Huh,” he muttered, frowning at the sheet of paper. A third new name had joined the list. Right between Jeremy and Trevor was Matt. As in. Their cat, Matt? He’d even been given the same kind of payout as Jeremy and Trevor, as a new full-time crew member.

“That… makes no sense.” He heaved a sigh, then pushed himself up from his desk. He’d probably been working too long. Time to get a reality check from his beloved second.

Barely remembering to grab the crew’s payroll before leaving his office, he wandered over to the living room. There he found Jack and Michael, playing a game on the tv. Instead of looking what they were doing, he just held out the sheet of paper, blocking her view. “Jack.”

“Geoffrey,” she responded, leaning to the side to look around the paper. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“So am I.” He shook the paper, the sound of it lost over the noise of the tv. “Why are we paying a cat?”

“Huh?” She looked away from the tv for a moment, then swore as Michael cackled. “Why are you asking me? B-team takes care of all that stuff.”

Michael snorted over the sound of his mashing buttons on a controller. “That cat must be doing good work, Geoff.”

“Must be,” Jack agreed absent-mindedly, leaning a little further to the side. “Geoff, seriously, move.”

He looked between the two of them, then back to the sheet of paper. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, but stepped away. Apparently he was the only one in this goddamn crew who thought it was weird they were including a cat in their payroll.

Well. Whatever. He still had plenty of boring paperwork to work through. If he spent any time on figuring out this bullshit he’d just lose even more time to it. As long as that goddamn cat wasn’t earning more than the rest of the crew it wasn’t worth the hassle.

He dropped the paper back onto his desk and signed it with a flourish.

---

“—so we’re mostly casual about the stuff here,” Lindsay explained as they showed him the kitchen in the crew’s shared apartment. “Like, don’t touch anything that anybody signed, but otherwise it’s pretty much a free game.”

“Right.” Alfredo nodded. “Even though I don’t live here?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re the only one,” they pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Trevor and Jeremy have been with us for months and they’re still living in their own apartment. Besides,” they paused to give him a look, “you’ll probably lose your own stuff to the crew as well when you put it in there.”

“Fair enough.” He looked away at the rustling of a jacket to see Trevor coming up to them.

“You’re good taking care of Fredo’s introduction alone, right, Lindsay?” he asked as he pulled on his coat.

They hummed. “Yeah, I’ve got it.” Trevor nodded and turned around.

“Oh, and Trevor,” they interrupted him, waiting a moment for him to turn back around. “Please tell Matt he’s a good boy for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Trevor agreed easily, nodding again. “I’ll head out then. See you two tomorrow.”

“See you,” Alfredo replied automatically, as he turned that conversational twist in his mind. Tell Matt he was a good boy…? Who the hell was Matt?

Lindsay, clearly picking up on his thoughts, shot him a wide grin. “Matt is Trevor and Jeremy’s cat, and he’s the main reason why they haven’t moved into the apartment yet. There’s a little more logistics involved in moving in two people and their cat, especially if all three are used to sharing a tiny apartment.”

“Right,” he agreed. That made sense. “And you just… ask them to tell their cat he’s a good boy for you?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” They shrugged, unrepentant. “That, or I ask them to give him a hug for me. Man, I can’t wait for them to move in. I really want to give that cat a pat myself.”

“You haven’t met him?” he asked skeptically, quirking a brow. “How do you know he’s a good cat?”

“All cats are good cats, duh.” They winked. “And I’ve seen photos, and heard the boys talking about him. Great cat.”

Well, fair enough. He couldn’t argue with that.

---

Jeremy dropped another empty box on the floor of Matt’s office. “There, do you think that’s enough?”

“Should be,” he agreed, spinning around on his chair. “If not we’ll have to grab another box or two. Do we have enough for the rest of the house?”

“Trevor is coming back with a few more boxes, that should do the trick.” They looked over the boxes littered around the office, some half-filled with stuff that could be packed away already. “You got us a storage box to put the house stuff in, right?”

Matt gasped dramatically. “Jeremy, you doubt me? I said I would take care of it and I did.”

“Just making sure,” they assured him, rolling their eyes. “You’re almost done with that hacking thing, right? So we can focus on packing afterwards?”

“Yeah, the last thing is running now. After that it’s just the finishing touches and that should be that.”

“Good, good.” The lock of their front door rattled, and Jeremy tensed for a moment before recognizing the sound of a key in the lock. “Hey Treh.”

“Hey Jer,” Trevor called back from the door, soon followed by the click of the door and then the sound of cardboard hitting the floor. “Thanks for letting me in.”

“No problem man,” they said, grinning at him as he walked in the office. “Everything went well?”

Trevor hummed. “Yeah. They’ll clear out a room for us tomorrow, and one for Fredo as well. Oh, also…”

He leaned over, patting Matt on the head. “That’s from Gavin. He asked me to tell you you’re a “good good boy”.”

“Oh.” Matt grinned wide, a pleased expression on his face. “Thanks. I should tell everyone thanks once we’re there. They’ve been so nice to us.”

“Especially to you,” Trevor said, clicking his tongue. “Maybe I want to be told I’m a good boy for once instead of always acting like the messenger.”

“You are a good boy, Trevor.” Jeremy grinned at him, even as they were connecting the dots in their head. Oh my god. The reason why everyone in the crew was acting so weird was because they thought Matt was a cat. That is why Lindsay and Gavin had asked to see their cat all that time ago.

Oh, this was just too funny! They would have to make sure that no one saw Matt during the move. It had been almost six months since they had joined the crew and no one had figured it out yet. If they kept that up while living in the same apartment…

They hastily shoved down their chuckles. Couldn’t let Trevor and Matt in on the joke. Their reactions would be so good if they found out at the same time as the crew.

“We should make sure Buddy stays in the office,” they pointed out, during the lull in conversation. “At least that first week or so, until he’s settled in.”

“Oh, yeah, good idea,” Trevor agreed, nodding. “Wouldn’t want him to get in anyone’s way.”

“Except mine, apparently,” Matt grumped half-heartedly. “But yeah. That way he won’t accidentally escape the apartment either. And having a familiar person and place will probably help.”

“Exactly.” Alright. Step one: complete. Oh, this was so exciting!

---

Lindsay reclined further in their chair, casually swiping at their phone screen to scroll. Opposite of them Trevor was sitting more neatly, but equally casual, leafing through a book. It had only been a few days since he and Jeremy had moved in, but already they wandered around the house like they had lived there for months.

Well, not entirely surprising, considering that they’d been around for months already, but still. The only sad part was that they hadn’t seen Matt yet. Apparently the cat was staying in their room for now.

They hear a door open and looked up automatically; Michael was supposed to be done soon with his job. But as they did so, they realized that’s not what they heard. The front door had a different sound to it, a click of the lock being undone and re-locked. This was the sound of one of the room doors.

Trevor looked up from his book as well, and together they watch a bedraggled long-haired man wander out of the hallway with bedrooms. The man, seeing them looking, waved as he headed towards the kitchen.

Before they can say anything, Trevor called out to him, “Make sure to grab a snack while you’re out there, Matt!”

“Yeah,” the man—Matt?!?—called back, “I was planning to.”

“Okay, just making sure.” And with that, Trevor just turned back to his book. Zero comment.

Lindsay looked back to the kitchen once more, taking in the man standing there. Long dark hair, big loose clothing, casually grabbing a snack to go with his refilled bottle of water.

Huh. Matt must be some kind of werecat, then. Sometimes a cat, sometimes a human person. But if no one had mentioned it clearly they didn’t want to talk about it, and, well. Lindsay wasn’t rude enough to ignore that.

Buuuut they can bring it up later when Gavin gets back. He would hear her out, no problem.

---

Alfredo grunted, blinking up at his ceiling. Not that he could see it in the dark, but still. Goddamn him.

No. Goddamn Lindsay and Gavin for those stupid damn stories. For days they’ve been telling everyone in the crew—bar Jeremy and Trevor—about Matt the cat not being an actual cat but a fucking werecat. Like, really?

But apparently the thought had wormed its way into his head anyway, because he can’t stop thinking about it now. He had started thinking that they’re pulling some kind of elaborate prank on him, because those two had moved in at the same time as him yet he hadn’t seen their cat in the past few days, but no, apparently not. Because today a long-haired brown cat had run out of their room, only to be grabbed by Jeremy and escorted back in, chastised for leaving. And Alfredo knew he heard Jeremy say the name Matt when they went into their room.

Ugh. Well, if he’s up he might as well grab himself a drink from the kitchen. It was—he looked at his alarm—way past midnight, so no one else should be up. That should save him from an awkward conversation.

He rolled out of bed, yawning widely and he pulled open his door. At least there was enough ambient light in the apartment itself that he didn’t need to turn on any lights. The last thing he needed now was to wake himself up even further with that bullshit.

But, really. A werecat? Their only evidence was that Lindsay had apparently seen Matt as a long-haired man, and that Trevor had greeted him by name. Gavin, despite the vehemence with which he agreed with Lindsay, apparently didn’t even have any proof himself. He just believed them without a doubt.

Unbelievable, Alfredo thought to himself, and then realized there was already someone in the kitchen just before he stepped inside.

He yelped, throwing his hand over his mouth immediately to muffle the sound.

On the other side of the open doorway the burglar(?) jerked, startled by the sound, almost dropping whatever they were holding in their hand. A… bottle? Huh.

“Oh my god,” the man gasped out, quiet as a whisper. “Alfredo, you scared the shit out of me.”

“What—?” he hissed back, automatically matching volume. What kind of intruder would say that? Or know his name?

“Just grabbing a drink,” the man held up the bottle of water. The… The long-haired man. Oh, no. No no no. “Sorry, I need to finish up some hacking stuff for tomorrow. Talk later?”

“Uh, yeah, sure man,” he replied automatically, taking in the stranger’s appearance. Fuck him. Lindsay had been right. There was the undeniable evidence: the man with long dark hair, matching the cat he’d seen exactly.

What the fuck.

He definitely should’ve stayed in fucking bed, fuck him.

---

Jeremy leaned back in their chair, watching the tv with the rest of the crew. The game they had been playing had turned extremely competitive, with plenty of yelling and screaming, and Jeremy had bailed so they could oversee the chaos.

Specifically, so they could see the incoming chaos Matt was about to bring, since the yelling was sure to draw him out.

They had been feeding the flames all week, and still no one had properly connected the dots. They had moved in while the rest of the crew was away on a sudden mission, and Matt had mostly been busy in his new office—their shared room—ever since.

There had been a close call a day or two ago, when Buddy had escaped from their room, but luckily Jeremy had been able to grab him and bring him back before Matt could. If those two had been seen together the game would’ve surely been over.

Honestly, luck had been on their side anyway. Lindsay had apparently seen him but assumed he was a werecat, of all things, and Gavin had just? gone with their assumption. For some reason. And then, a few days later, Alfredo had also seen Matt and, instead of refuting Lindsay’s assumption, and given in and gone along with them.

It was better than Jeremy could’ve planned themself. Absolutely brilliant.

Either way, things were surely coming to an end… because there came Matt. No one else had seen him yet, too focused on playing or watching the ongoing game.

He stood behind the couch, looming over Gavin, Michael, Geoff, and Jack. And then, completely unknowing of what he was about to unleash, very casually asked, “Hey guys, who’s winning?”

They were glad that they had braced themself, because the ensuing screaming was deafening. Even Trevor yelled, probably startled by everyone else. Matt himself jerked back several steps. Hell, Geoff startled so badly he threw himself off of the couch entirely, and Gavin had crawled half on top of Michael.

This was so good. They were so glad they had hung back to watch this happen.

“Hey Matt,” they casually greeted, ignoring the cacophony and barely holding in their laughter.

“See!” Lindsay yelled, suddenly, victoriously, pointing a finger at Matt. “See! I told you guys he was a werecat!”

“A what?” Matt blinked at them, even as Michael shoved Gavin off of his lap and onto Geoff, ignoring the resulting squawking. “Huh?”

Trevor twitched, blinking in confusion. “Yeah, what the hell are you talking about?”

No longer could they hold it in. Jeremy burst out in cackling laughter, and soon enough Matt begun chuckling along, cautiously.

“Get off me, idiot,” Geoff grumbled, pushing Gavin off of himself so he could get up. “Someone help me up.”

“You’re not that old, Geoffrey,” Jack complained, but offered him a hand anyway. “Can someone please explain to me what the fuck is happening?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you.” Matt shook his head, looking over at Trevor, and then at Jeremy themself, still laughing. “But I think I know who’s responsible for it.”

“Am not!” they immediately denied. “I just found out a week ago, before we moved in. And I haven’t even done anything! The stories fed themselves.”

Geoff found his balance standing up, then stared at Matt for a long moment. “Well,” he finally said, “I guess that this makes more sense than having a cat on the payroll.”

“You thought I was a cat?” Matt asked incredulously. Then, looking at the expressions of everyone around the room, he repeated, louder, “You all thought I was a cat?”

“Well! We all saw the bloody cat, didn’t we!” Gavin gestured wildly, still lying on the floor where Geoff had dumped him. “It just made sense!”

Matt blinked down at him. “The cat? You mean Buddy? You all thought I was Buddy?”

Lindsay gasped. “His name is Buddy? That’s adorable!”

“How did no one here realize?” Trevor blinked at everyone, wide-eyed. “For six months, none of you realized that Matt was a human, or that he was our hacker. Who did you guys think was doing all that work?”

“Uh.” Everyone looked over at Geoff, who shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really think about it. B-team probably hired someone, or something.”

Behind him on the couch, Jack groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Geoff. Really?”

“What? I was right, wasn’t I?” He gestured over at Matt. “Someone got hired to take care of it. All good!”

“I still can’t believe everyone in this crew thought I was a cat.” Matt shook his head. “I mean—Gavin, we’ve been texting for weeks.”

Gavin, in the middle of getting up from the floor, squawked defensively. “Well! I thought it was just Jeremy having a laugh, pretending to text as the cat! We just texted “meow” back and forth!”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Michael waved Gavin down. “So then why haven’t we seen the cat around?”

“Because he’s been in our room?” Matt shrugged, casually. “We didn’t want him to—Wait a second. Jeremy, you were the one to suggest keeping him in the room so no one would realize!”

“But you all agreed with my reasoning!” they countered, grinning widely. “It made sense!”

“Well, I think we should get to see the cat now. As compensation.” Lindsay opened their arms, as if expecting them to just place Buddy in their arms. “Come on.”

“Yeah, one sec.” Matt shook his head even as he turned around to go back to their room. Moments later he returned, Buddy lounging in his arms. “See? Not the same thing.”

Trevor leaned closer from his chair, exaggeratedly looking Matt over. “I don’t know Matt. You do look a lot alike.”

“Oh, fuck you, Trevor.”

---

Matt’s fingers stilled over the keyboard as he activated his new program’s test run. There, now he could just sit back and wait for a moment.

He still couldn’t believe that he worked as the Fakes’ hacker for six months without them knowing he was a human person. Six months! And the only people who had known he wasn’t cat were Jeremy, Trevor, and the B-team, apparently. Fucking unbelievable.

Well. Maybe a little believable, he supposed.

A knock on his door broke him out of his thoughts, and he spun around on his chair. “Come in, it’s open.”

“Heya Matt,” Lindsay greeted him as they came in, hands held strangely behind themself. “You got a minute?”

“Sure?” he answered cautiously, glancing back at his computer for a moment. “What’s up?”

“Here, I got you a little something!” They shoved the thing into his hands the moment he lifted them. Something soft and furry, and—

It was a cat plushy. A very cute, very fluffy plush cat.

He looked at the plush in his hands—so soft!—and then back at Lindsay, who cracked up into giggles.

“Thank you?” he said when they settled down some.

“It’s because we all thought you were a cat all this time.” They gestured at the plushy. “So it’s a little something to make up for it, since I’m the one who started it, I think.”

“Oh, well, it’s fine.” He tucked the plush closer to himself. It really was very nice to hold. “I mean. It’s kinda silly, but it’s hardly the worst thing that could’ve happened.”

“Yeah, well.” They shrugged. “It is pretty funny in hindsight. But I saw that plushy and I thought, hey, why not. Matt would probably like it.”

He smiled back at them. “I do, thank you.” He reached over, settling the plush on his desk next to his monitors. “And Lindsay? Thank you for the compliments and the hugs.”

They laughed, opening their arms. “Yeah, no problem man. You want a direct hug?”

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as he got up out of his chair. “I’m not saying no to that.”

---

Jeremy leaned against a wall, quickly checking the clip in their pistol. They hoped they wouldn’t need to use it, but better to be prepared than to be caught off-guard.

“Oh, shit,” Matt muttered over the coms. “Uh. I said that wrong. My bad. You should’ve taken the right turn instead of the left.”

“Matt, you motherfucker,” Geoff snarled in the comm, clearly struggling to keep his voice down so they wouldn’t attract the attention of the police. “What the fuck do you mean you sent us the wrong way!”

“I was looking at the wrong thing, sorry!” He sounded genuinely apologetic, but it was clearly too late from the way Geoff was seething. “It’s fine. Just a little further. Follow the alley and then take a right at the end.”

They quickly continued walking, but Gavin was already reaching up to unmute his own mic. “Matt, how did you send us down the wrong way, Matt! It’s just left and right!”

“I was looking at the wrong thing! I said sorry, didn’t I!”

And, well. That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Jeremy threw a quick look over at Geoff, and found him visibly boiling over. They lowered their hand back to their pistol, but hopefully they were far enough away from the police that Geoff’s shouting wouldn’t alert them.

Jeremy tuned out of the screaming earful from Geoff—fed by Gavin and Jack—but kept half an ear on the comm. Just enough that he could hear Matt’s heavy sigh, followed by the quiet mutter of, “I miss being a cat.”

Despite themself they cracked up, laughter cutting off the shouting from the rest of the crew. Oops. Apparently they hadn’t muted their own mic. Everyone fell silent, watching them lose it over a comment none of them heard.

“What did we say that was so bloody funny?” Gavin asked, frowning at them.

“Sorry,” they apologized as they caught their breath again, shaking their head to get their focus back. “Just something Matt said. I’m good. Let’s go.”

They should’ve realized that that would just encourage Matt.

---

BK winced as Geoff’s voice echoed around her, bouncing off of the alley walls just off from his actual voice in her comm. She wished she could turn the comm off, but it wouldn’t do to miss critical instructions. Her admittance into the crew was too new to risk over something like this.

Besides, he wasn’t even yelling at her. And, despite the volume he was reaching, he didn’t even sound that mad. It was more theatrical than anything.

Probably.

She leant around the corner, spotting Trevor opposite of her, hidden behind a stack of boxes. Seeing her in turn, he gave her a thumb’s up and a reassuring smile, and she gladly returned the favor. See? All good.

A weary sigh rattled over the comm, and she winced again, this time in sympathy. It seemed that Matt, for all that he stayed back home as the hacker, caught a lot of Geoff’s ire. Maybe being away from the action made it worse, instead of better.

“Man,” the man in question huffed. “You were so much nicer when I was a cat.”

When—Huh? When he what?

Sudden gunshots interrupted her thoughts. Fuck. Alright, that thought was getting shelved until after the mission. Focus now.

The moment they returned back to the base, however, the topic immediately sprung back into her mind. As she put away her weapons and body armor, the thought kept circling around in her head. What did it mean?

Stepping back out into penthouse proper—the shared Crew home, for all she didn’t yet live there—she set out to get answers. But who could she ask?

Oh! There was Ky! She had been around a little longer than BK herself, so maybe she would know. At the very least, she wasn’t one of the old guard who would surely use this as a pranking opportunity.

“Hey Ky,” BK greeted the moment she was close enough. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?” Ky turned to face her. “Did something happen during the mission?”

“Kinda.” She made a dubious face. “I heard Matt say something weird. Like… Not normal for this crew weird.”

Ky’s face dropped into a frown, and BK immediately followed it up with, “He said something about the rest of the crew being nicer when he was a cat?”

“He—Huh?” Ky’s expression cleared up immediately—and straight into confusion. “He said that?”

“Right?” BK threw up her hands, feeling exasperation flood through her. “I mean, what does that even mean?”

“When he was a cat…” Ky repeated, under her breath, brow creased. “When he was a cat…”

“Where did you hear that?” a hushed voice interrupted them, and BK jerked away—and saw Ky do the same opposite of her.

Standing next to them was Jeremy, wide-eyed and grim-faced. “Seriously! Be quiet about that, where did you hear that?”

“Matt muttered it over the comms earlier today.” BK felt her heart drop. What was going on in this crew? “Why? What did he mean?”

Jeremy looked around, shiftily, and BK found herself doing the same automatically. But the hallway was clear. Just the three of them.

“Look, Matt doesn’t like to talk about it, okay? Top secret. No one gets to know about it.” They met her eyes first, then Ky’s, deadly serious. “No one.”

“We wouldn’t tell!” Ky immediately exclaimed, then grimaced and lowered her voice. “Jeremy, we wouldn’t, you know that.”

They stared them down for a moment longer, then nodded, slowly. “Alright, fine. But I’m serious—Matt doesn’t want to talk about it. Keep it quiet, okay?”

“Promise,” BK said, and she heard Ky’s voice echoing with her own.

Jeremy nodded once more, then gestured for them to lean in closer. “Okay, so you two know that Trevor, Matt, and I were hired at the same time, yeah? We all lived in the same apartment at the time. And it took a while for us to be moved in because of it, so it took six months until we could move in, at the same time as Alfredo.”

“Right,” Ky said, slowly.

“And it was before we used long-distance comms, so no one but me and Trevor knew about Matt. For six months, none of them saw him, none of them heard his voice, nothing. Just the two of us, whenever we came home from our missions.”

BK couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, even more so than earlier that day. Six months with barely any human contact, and now he got yelled at by Geoff? Harsh.

“And just when we were about to move in, something big interrupted, and everyone had to focus on crew work. So the three of us, we just moved in on our own, without anyone seeing. And then Matt had to get back to work immediately again, having to stay in his new office—our shared room—the entire time.”

Add a little more sorry to that previous count. Yikes.

“So… A few days after we got there, we might’ve had a little unwanted break-out.” Jeremy shrugged their shoulders, a forced smile on their face. “And a cat came running out of his office. Which of course the others saw, and, well. You can imagine what went down.”

“But, wait.” Ky frowned, and BK felt her own mind trip over the vagueness with which Jeremy had told the story. “You mean that long-haired tabby that wanders around the base?”

“That’s the one,” Jeremy confirmed, smiling softly. “So, yeah. It’s a whole thing, and Matt doesn’t like to talk about it, so. Keep it quiet, yeah?”

“Of course,” BK assured them, even if she wasn’t quite sure what to keep quiet, exactly. “Thanks for telling us, Jeremy.”

They nodded. “Yeah, no problem. Better than letting the confusion cause problems. If there’s any pressing concerns, come ask me, okay?”

“We will,” Ky promised, and they watched Jeremy wander off before she leaned closer to BK. “So… Did you get what exactly was up with Matt?”

“No, not really,” she admitted, grimacing. “I guess he… was a cat? For a while? Somehow?”

“What, like a werecat?” Ky shook her head. “How does that even make sense?”

“Well, I don’t know!” BK snapped back, throwing her hands up. “Maybe he was cursed to be cat until the crew fixed him, or something!”

“Shh,” Ky hissed immediately, and they looked around quickly, but no one was nearby. Phew. “Well, then he might as well have been a cat originally, until he got turned into a human.”

BK hummed. “I don’t think that that works in the story. Wait. Or does it?”

“How would I know?” Ky fell silent, face twisting. “Oh my god. I’ve definitely petted him before.”

“You have?”

“Yes! Lindsay was holding him and making kissy faces and then told me I should give him a pat! How was I supposed to know otherwise!”

“Oh my god,” BK groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is too much.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, processing.

“We should tell Joe.” Ky met BK’s gaze when she snapped it over to her. “Okay, I know Jeremy said to keep it quiet, but! He’s going to find out eventually, and I’m not going to be able to keep quiet if I see him petting Matt.”

“Okay, true.” BK clicked her tongue. “Well. It should be okay right, to make sure he doesn’t ask Matt about it?”

“Yeah! Yeah, see, that makes sense,” Ky agreed nodding. “Alright. Let’s just. Go do that. Then.”

“Yes. Let’s, uh. Do that.”

---

Jeremy’s fingers tapped out a silent rhythm on the side of their phone. The moment they had stepped away from Ky and BK they had texted Lindsay to let them in on the shenanigans that had just been unleashed, and now they regularly texted with ideas on how to stoke the flames further.

Luckily Lindsay had agreed to keep it quiet from everyone else. Hopefully Ky and BK would do the same, because Jeremy really wanted to see everyone’s reactions when they found out the whole thing had happened again.

Although, admittedly, they were kind of curious to hear what those two had thought up. They had intentionally left their story very open, but still. The options were pretty limited, weren’t they?

Their phone buzzed in their hand, and they looked down. Ooh, a great new idea from Lindsay. Baking cookies shaped like cat treats to give to Matt? Brilliant!

Rapidly texted Lindsay back, they hadn’t even noticed Joe creeping up on them until he awkwardly cleared his throat.

Quickly dimming their screen, they looked up at him. “Hey Joe, what’s up?”

“You, uh.” He looked around the otherwise-empty room, the very picture of shifty, then continued at a lower tone. “You said we could ask you about Matt’s… thing.”

“His thing,” they repeated drily.

“Yeah, you know, the. Uh.” Joe stuck up a finger on each side of his head, wiggling them slightly. Like cat ears, Jeremy supposed. “You know?”

Pressing a fist to their mouth to stifle their laughter, they nodded slightly. “The cat thing? Yes. Who told you?”

“BK and—Uh. I mean. No one.” Joe cleared his throat again, awkwardly looking away. “I definitely found out on my own.”

“Sure.” They shook their head. Definitely something to keep in mind, the poor acting skills of some of the newer crew members. You never know when those kind of things come in handy! “You had a question about it?”

He nodded, shuffling a little on his feet. “Yeah, so he’s like, a werecat, right? Sometimes a human and sometimes a cat?”

Interesting. Was that the consensus that they had reached, or was that just what Joe had decided was the truth? Either way, they gestured for him to keep talking.

“So what I was wondering, um. Is he always fully human, or fully cat, or…?”

“What, like does he keep cat-like traits when he’s human, or something?” They quirked a brow at him, using the pause to quickly search through their brain. Stoke the flames, stoke the flames… “Hm. Well, you know how it is with weres: never fully one or the other.”

“So he’s like…” Joe gestured vaguely, like he was trying to grab at concepts he couldn’t reach. “A little cat?” he settled on, weakly.

“Oh yeah, for sure” they said, casually reclining on their chair. “Haven’t you noticed how he’s always prowling the base at night? That’s the were-zoomies.”

They watched Joe mouth the word ‘were-zoomies’, stifling the grin that threatened to break out on their face. Yes. Yes. Go on, fall for it.

“Right,” Joe said, slowly, like he was testing the word. “That makes sense. Uh. Sorry for bothering you with this.”

“It’s fine,” they assured him, flapping their hand. “Just make sure to keep it quiet from the rest, yeah? Especially Matt, he doesn’t like talking about it much.”

“Uh huh.” Joe nodded. “And I guess you’d know best anyway, since you’ve known him longest.”

“Exactly,” they agreed easily. “Was that all?”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah.” He shifted on his feet again. “Thanks, Jeremy. Again.”

“No problem,” they repeated, even as Joe turned around to walk away. They waited another moment or two, until they were sure that he was leaving—and that he’d really fallen for it—and then turned on their phone again to resume texting Lindsay.

They would love the new twist that had just been added to the story.

---

Idly watching a program run on the monitor in front of him, Matt hummed. “Hey, Trevor.”

“Hey Matt,” Trevor echoed dutifully, sitting on the bed behind him, Buddy in his lap.

“Do you think the new crew members have been acting weird around me?”

Because he was pretty sure they were acting weird. At first he had just assumed it was nerves over joining the crew, but then he realized it was only around him. Like they became instantly transfixed on him whenever he entered a room any of them were in.

“I don’t know.” Trevor sounded doubtful, and Matt spun around to find him frowning. “I haven’t noticed anything, but I haven’t really been paying attention to it, I guess.”

Matt hummed. “I guess I’m just worried I’m spending too much time in the office again, you know?”

“Honestly, you haven’t been that bad.” Trevor leant further back, and they both watched in silence as Buddy stretched out further in the newly gained space. “Maybe that’s why? You’re just around more to notice it, now that we’re not the new guys.”

“Maybe,” he said, doubtfully. “I don’t know. It just seems kind of weird. The last time people were acting all strange around me was, you know, when we moved in.”

“And we wouldn’t want a repeat from that.” Trevor laughed, then fell silent as he saw the look on Matt’s face. “Matt. You’re not seriously thinking about it.”

“What? It happened once, it could’ve happened again.” He shook his head. “Besides, Jeremy is absolutely the type to feed the new guys a made-up story of me being a werecat. They definitely didn’t get their fill of chaos last time around.”

“It’s not like they would’ve needed to do that.” Trevor clicked his tongue, chastising. “You still regularly grumble about missing your old cat life. It’s not like that couldn’t have caused some strange thoughts.”

Matt spluttered, “Now hold on—”

“Besides,” Trevor cut him off, mercilessly. “You also responded to Lindsay going “pspspsps” over the comms just a few days. By muting everyone else and focusing exclusively on them.”

He stared down Matt, as if daring him to defend himself again. When he didn’t, Trevor sniffed. “See? Perfectly normal reasons why people might think you’re a werecat, again, without Jeremy having done anything.”

“Right,” he agreed. Trevor kind of had a point. He did do all of those things. “But consider this: these are exactly the kind of shenanigans that Jeremy is all about.”

Trevor visibly thought about it. Then nodded. “True, true. Guess we’ll see how it all turns out, then.”

---

Paper rustled loudly as Gavin dug through the pile of wrapped presents still left in the middle of their circle. From the sidelines most of the crew was shouting at him to hurry up, either because they wanted to receive their own presents, or because they wanted to see the reactions to what they had given.

Jack just shuffled in deeper into the couch she had claimed. Some of the newer crew members might’ve been feeling uncertain about their picks—it was their first Secret Santa since Jeremy, Trevor, and Matt had joined, after all—but she knew she had made an excellent choice.

Gavin exclaimed victoriously over having found the present he’d been looking for, holding it up proudly. And then groaned when he read the label: addressed to Matt.

Smiling satisfied, she watched him accept the present. Good.

“What is it, Matt?” Joe called loudly the moment Matt begun opening the present, clearly stoked on by Alfredo sitting next to him.

“Give me a moment!” Matt called back, carefully taking apart the paper. And clearly going slow on purpose, based on the way he was grinning at the exasperated—and dramatic—groans around him.

And then he gasped, having seen the contents of his present.

Michael, sitting next to him, leaned to take a look. And then made a face. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s great is what it is!” Matt lifted up his gift to show it to the rest. And Jack knew she’d made the right choice the moment she saw it, but seeing Matt’s wide grin now filled her with pride nonetheless.

In Matt’s hands, he held a knitted sweater. An unbelievably obnoxious, very ugly, and very grandma-style knitted sweater. With a cat theme.

“I love it!” he exclaimed, even as Jeremy, on his other side, made a loud gagging noise. “Wait—”

And then he pulled it on over the hoodie he’d been wearing, wiggling slightly to get it to sit right. And just as she had guessed, it was just slightly oversized for him.

“Oh, it’s so nice.” Matt rubbed one arm of the sweater, plucking at it slightly. “It’s so warm and soft! I love it. Thank you, Secret Santa!”

“It’s atrocious,” Jeremy spat out like they couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Matt, look at it!”

“I am looking at it.” Matt grinned at Jeremy like a cat who’d gotten the cream. “Here, just feel it, Jeremy. Gimme a pat.”

Jeremy rolled their eyes but obliged, patting Matt’s arm briefly. Then they sighed. “Yeah, alright, I’ll give you that. It’s very soft.”

“Told you.” Matt shook his arms slightly, letting the too-long sleeves fall over his hands. “Oh, right, my turn to pick a present. Hm, let’s see…”

---

Matt absentmindedly twirled the glass in his hand, watching the liquid in it swish around. Ever since he and Trevor had realized that BK, Ky, and Joe thought he was a—a werecat or something, he had become aware of just how much they stared at him. It was like, equal parts fascinated and terrified. So probably werecat then? Were they thinking about him just suddenly turning into a cat in front of them, or something?

He didn’t know, and quite frankly, he had no idea how to ask.

Up went the glass as he took a drink from it. Nope, still no idea.

And the three of them were still staring, on the other side of the table.

Really, when Trevor had suggested that Matt just go out with them for a night to find a way to bring it up, he’d thought that Trevor would’ve come along. But nooo, that would’ve been too easy, huh? Had to go and do this all alone.

How the fuck were you supposed to start a conversation about this, anyway?

“So,” BK blurted out suddenly, leaning forward on her elbows, “When you turn into a cat, does that hurt? Like, is that why you never do it?”

“When I what?” he answered automatically, somehow feeling caught off-guard despite wanting to get into this exact conversation.

Also, apparently that is how you start a conversation about this kind of stuff. He’d consider it good to know, but he was really kind of hoping not to get into this situation a third time.

Groaning, he pinched his nose. “I’m not a werecat, or whatever Jeremy told you three.”

“But the—the were-zoomies.” Joe gestured around the last word as if to emphasize it.

“The what?” He shook his head, setting the thought aside. “Look. I don’t know what Jeremy convinced you three of, but I can guarantee you it’s not real. Although I guess that that does explain why Buddy has been begging for more attention from the rest of us…”

“Buddy?” Ky repeated cautiously.

“Yeah. Buddy the cat.” He pulled up a photo on his phone, even though he was sure they all knew exactly who he was talking about. “See? That’s our cat. Mine, Jeremy’s, and Trevor’s, before we moved in with the rest of the crew. I’m sure you’ve seen him around.”

“But—But—” BK spluttered, and then fell silent when he swiped over to a photo of him holding Buddy. “Oh.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He rolled his eyes, tucking his phone away again. “Honestly, it’s kind of unbelievable this happened again. Although I guess it doesn’t really count if Jeremy orchestrated this on purpose…”

“But I heard you complain about missing being a cat!” BK gestured at him. “What does that even mean!”

He nodded slowly. “I assume Jeremy told you about how, when I first joined the crew, no one saw or heard me? They only knew me by name? So, somehow, they wrongly start to think—"

---

“JEREMY!”

They looked up from the game they had been playing. Was that BK? Hadn’t she gone out with Ky, Joe, and Matt?

The door slammed open, and they spun around on their chair. Standing in the opening were all three of the new crew members. The crew members they had tricked into thinking Matt was a werecat.

“So uh.” They looked between the three fuming crew members. “You figured it out, huh?”

“I’m going to kill you!” BK snarled, making grabbing hands at them from where she still stood. “You asshole! Months!”

“Oh yeah, you really fell for it.” They giggled, ignoring the way the three of them crept further into the room. “But hey, now you get to join the club with the rest of crew! You’re fitting in just right!”

“You’ll fit in just right in the hole you’re about to make in the ground,” Ky growled, stepping up to them. “Because we’re about to drop you off of the roof.”

They looked over to Joe. Who shook his head. “Oh no, I’m with them.”

“Shame.” They shrugged, putting down their controller. “Ah well. Worth it.”

Buddy meowed from the corner of the desk where he’d been sitting.

So worth it.

#ah fanfic #ah fanfiction #fake ah crew #fahc #dark writes #anyway you might think this is a case of a fandom writer suddenly going RPF but it's actually the reverse #AH was the very first fandom I ever wrote for #the good ol' roots

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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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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]."

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]."

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,"

————————————————————

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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