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#hp fanfiction
theodorenmyth · 2 days
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Can I have a angst to fluff on gn reader who can be easily sick and matheo or Theo knows this but one day rumors are heard around that the reader was sent to the medic wing and all hell broke loose cause he’s so protective of them. This can be seen as platonic or romantic.
And I just want to say I love your Harry Potter writings!! -💕
aw! tysm<3
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The Protector's Panic
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Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x GN! Reader Summary : You have always been susceptible to illness, and Mattheo Riddle knows this better than anyone. When he hears a rumor that you've been sent to the medical wing, his world crumbles. Driven by fear and protectiveness, he storms through the castle to find you. What he discovers is a testament to the strength of your bond, turning his angst into relief and heartwarming affection. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1k+
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Mattheo Riddle had a reputation at Hogwarts. Fierce, cunning, and unwaveringly protective of those he cared about. It was no surprise that he had taken you under his wing the moment he learned how easily you fell ill. What started as an act of concern had grown into a steadfast friendship, and perhaps something more.
Today, however, was different.
The whispers started in the Great Hall during breakfast. Students huddled in tight circles, casting furtive glances towards the Slytherin table. Mattheo's senses were on high alert, every fiber of his being attuned to the undercurrents of the room. His eyes narrowed as he caught snippets of conversation.
"…heard they collapsed…"
"…rushed to the hospital wing…"
"…could be serious…"
Mattheo's heart hammered in his chest. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. His friends looked up in surprise, but he paid them no mind. His focus was singular: you.
The corridors blurred as he sprinted towards the hospital wing, a storm of emotions swirling within him. Anger, fear, and an overwhelming need to see you safe. He burst through the double doors, startling Madam Pomfrey.
"Where are they?" His voice was a growl, barely contained panic evident in his eyes.
"Calm down, Mr. Riddle," Madam Pomfrey replied, her tone stern but not unkind. "They're resting. You can see them, but quietly."
He nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he followed her to a secluded bed. There you were, pale and fragile-looking, but breathing steadily. The sight of you, though worrying, brought a measure of relief. He approached slowly, his heart in his throat.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice softer than he'd intended. "You gave me quite a scare."
You stirred, eyelids fluttering open. A weak smile touched your lips when you saw him. "Mattheo… what are you doing here?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he retorted gently, trying to mask his worry with humor. "What happened?"
You sighed, looking embarrassed. "I guess I overdid it. Didn't realize I was pushing myself too hard."
Mattheo's jaw tightened. "You know how easily you get sick. You should've been more careful."
You looked away, guilt etched on your features. "I didn't want to be a burden…"
"A burden?" His voice cracked, the raw emotion evident. "You could never be a burden. Don't you understand that?"
You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you took his. "I'm sorry, Mattheo. I didn't mean to worry you."
He squeezed your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Just promise me you'll be more careful. I can't lose you."
Tears welled in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. "I promise."
He sat beside you, not letting go of your hand. "You scared me half to death, you know. When I heard the rumors…"
"Rumors?" you echoed, a hint of confusion in your voice.
"Yeah," he nodded, a dark look crossing his face. "People were saying all sorts of things. I thought… I thought something terrible had happened."
"I'm okay," you reassured him softly. "Just need some rest."
Mattheo's shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his eyes remained vigilant. "I'm staying here until you're better."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Besides, who else is going to make sure you don't overexert yourself?"
You chuckled, the sound light despite your fatigue. "Alright, Mr. Overprotective. You win."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Damn right I do."
The hours passed with Mattheo keeping a close watch over you, his presence a comforting anchor in the sea of your discomfort. He fetched water, adjusted your pillows, and even convinced Madam Pomfrey to let him bring some of your favorite snacks from the kitchens.
As evening fell, you found yourself feeling much better, thanks in no small part to Mattheo's care. The two of you talked quietly, sharing stories and laughter. The earlier tension melted away, replaced by a warmth that seemed to envelop you both.
"Mattheo," you murmured as the night grew darker, "thank you. For everything."
He looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that made your heart flutter. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Anytime. You mean a lot to me, you know that?"
You nodded, the unspoken words hanging in the air between you. "You mean a lot to me too."
In that moment, the storm that had threatened to break you both apart only served to strengthen your bond. As you drifted off to sleep, Mattheo stayed by your side, watching over you with a protective, almost tender, gaze. The angst of the day faded, replaced by a newfound understanding and closeness.
Hours passed, and when you woke again, the room was dimly lit by the setting sun. Mattheo was still by your side, his head resting on the edge of the bed as he dozed. You watched him for a moment, gratitude swelling in your chest. Despite his often gruff exterior, he cared deeply for you.
As if sensing your gaze, he stirred and opened his eyes. “Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you replied, your voice stronger. “Thanks to you.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You were here,” you said simply. “That’s enough.”
He smiled, his eyes warm. “Always.”
The door creaked open, and Madam Pomfrey entered with a tray of potions. “Time for your medicine,” she announced.
Mattheo helped you sit up, his touch gentle. As you took the potions, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for him. He had been so frantic with worry, but now his eyes were soft, his demeanor calm.
Once Madam Pomfrey left, he settled back into his chair, taking your hand again. “You really scared me today, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” he sighed. “Just… promise me you’ll take it easy for a while. For my sake, if not for yours.”
“I will,” you promised. “I’ll be more careful.”
“Good,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Because I don’t think my heart can take another scare like that.”
You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “I’ll do my best.”
As the evening light faded, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. With Mattheo by your side, you knew you could face anything. The fear and worry of the day melted away, replaced by the comforting presence of your best friend.
No matter what happened, you knew he’d always be there to protect you.
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isalisewrites · 13 hours
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TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
SUMMARY:
“Harry Potter.”
The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.
“The Boy Who Lived.”
A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.
Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.
“Come to die.”
Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.
---
When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.
---
THIRTY-ONE EXCERPT:
As the leaves slipped from their branches, fluttering lightly in the cool breeze of November, Harry met Tom’s gaze and, for a moment, it felt as if the world around them went out of focus. The murmur of the other boys muffled in Harry’s ears; the world became a blur of colors.
Locked, caged—captivated, Harry couldn’t look away.
The edge of Tom’s lips lifted; his eyebrow quirked upwards in a mild question. Harry did the only mature thing he could think of: he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.
Harry was gifted with a flash of shock. Tom let out a laugh; he slammed a hand over his mouth, eyes widening in surprised mirth as his shoulders shook. Harry grinned.
I caught him off guard. I actually got him to laugh—
“Tom?” asked Quintus, glancing back at them. “Something wrong?”
Tom shook his head. “Fine,” he choked out, mouth still hidden.
The other boys looked at him curiously. Tom kept his face hidden and when he finally met Harry’s eyes, Harry gave him another grin.
Heh, not everyday I manage to—
—Harry’s breath disappeared.
In return, the barest of genuine smiles lightened Tom’s fine features; its rare appearance churned something warm inside Harry’s entire body.
Harry quickly dropped his gaze, heat filling his cheeks and protecting him from the chill. He pushed the green and silver scarf to his mouth. His heart raced in his chest, thumping with the roar of his blood through every corner of his body.
He stole a glance once more.
The wind gusted lightly; the dark brown curls on Tom’s head fluttered in the breeze. Tom brushed his fringe out of his eyes as he looked around at the scenery with a contented expression.
Harry’s stomach swooped. His face burned with renewed strength, as if his cheeks had caught on fire. He buried his face further inside the scarf; the heat within was an inferno.
Calm down. Calm down.
Merlin, he’d never felt like this before. Not like this. The stirring in his chest, this warmth that filled every corner of his body, it weaved through every particle of his entire soul. Fucking hell. What is this? I feel like I’m gonna combust. He’d felt the chill moments ago, but now he had the overwhelming urge to pull off his scarf and strip out of his sweater.
Hang on.
Hang on just a minute…
From the beginning, Harry had known he was attracted to Tom, but it hadn’t bothered him too much. It’d been there under the surface, simmering with a gentle, mild flame. It’d been weak, manageable even. But this? This boiling heat in his chest and face threatened to consume him, to turn his body into ash—it was too intense. What in Merlin’s name was this… It reminded Harry of his fifth and sixth year… Oh. Oh, no.
Shit.
Harry had a bit of a crush on Tom, now didn’t he?
Oh, hell, no. No, no—and, no!
NO!
All the other Slytherins were blissfully unaware of one Harry Potter’s internal screams and screeches of denial.
For fuck’s sake, get it together! The bastard’s barely been pleasant for a day—a single fucking day! How am I falling for him so soon? Fuck. Shit. No. I’m not a swooning maiden—dammit, no, don’t even think about it!
His mind streamed an endless conga line of expletives.
Harry wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow him whole at that very moment. How utterly mortifying. He’d sunk to a new low now, bottom of the ocean low to its soul crushing depths. They’d barely tried to kill each other three weeks ago. Tom had been weird, snappy, and distant for two of those weeks because of nightmares and little sleep. As for this week, it wasn’t like Harry was around Tom as much as he’d been around Ron and Hermione.
Hell, Harry was pretty damn sure, if given the choice, Tom would still kill him for immortality.
Merlin, I’m fucked.
It might’ve been a bit insane to be having a crush on a guy who’d murder a friend for immortality.
Just a bit.
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writesleah · 4 months
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being mean ౨ৎ m. riddle
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౨ৎ mattheo riddle x fem!reader
౨ৎ pure smut no plot
౨ৎ 18+, nsfw, SMUT, fingering, degradation, slight impact play?
౨ৎ i’m so actually terrified of publishing smut but i really wanted to get out my comfort zone and try it out. this is the first smut i’ve actually sat down and written with the intent to post it so i’m so sorry if it’s a little boring 😞 i’m still trying to get used to writing it without just making it too cringey or self-indulgent. also, please please please let me know if i missed any warnings! still trying to figure out what i do and don’t put in there
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thinking about mattheo being extra mean to you when he fucks you one day.
you couldn’t blame him, though you didn’t really want to blame him either. you didn’t mind much. he minded. he had woken up late, draco had been more irritating than usual, and god, don’t get him started on quidditch practice, so of course he was in a bad mood. thank god for you. you, his perfect, innocent little angel who took him oh so well.
in this particular moment, you were laid up against him, your back tight against his chest, his fingers buried deep inside you. it was embarrassing, really, how he managed to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you so quickly, though it’s not like you could help it. he was just too good.
“gonna cum, matty,” you whined, small mewls pulling from your mouth as he repeatedly bullied into that perfect, sensitive spot inside of you.
he let out a small scoff, glaring down at you, “you’re gonna cum? you need to cum?” he pouted mockingly, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, pulling another strained whimper from you. “dirty slut. you better be able to keep going after this. i swear to fuck, if you decide to stop just because you managed to get off...”
there was something strange about the way he said it. maybe it was the way he was mean to you like that, maybe it was the way that you knew he didn’t really mean it. sure, he might be a little irritated if you decided to stop, but he’d never push you.
you couldn’t deny that, even when he was like this, mean and cruel, his eyes a harsh wall, fluctuating between apathetic and angry, you loved it. you loved him.
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hollowdeath · 5 months
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obsession (hjp)
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: harry potter (19) is attending university after hogwarts, and isn't recovering well from the war. completely alone, harry soon grows attached to you, the girl from his potions class. however, his attachment quickly turns to obsession, and harry isn't sure how much longer he can be just friends.
content warning: smut!!! perverted thoughts/acts, shame, masturbation, stalking, obsession, yearning/pining, intoxication, jealousy, stealing panties, dry humping, cumming in pants, oral sex, overstimulation, penetration, creampie
a/n: sooo i wrote over 19k words in like 2 days. but i haven't written a proper fanfic in literal years so please be kind. heavilyyy inspired by "never have i ever" from @selfcarecap , please go read it when you have the chance!! this is very much a SLOW BURN, do not proceed if you do not thoroughly enjoy pining…ft. a shy, inexperienced, slightly obsessive university student harry who has jealousy issues and perverted tendencies but is still such a complete gentleman…some of this might not be book/movie accurate…sue me...
song: Do Friends Fall In Love? - Rachael & Vilary
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harry's expectations of university weren't very high to begin with, but he didn't expect it to be this shit.
there were limited options for him since he had no desire of leaving the U.K. to further his career as an auror. and since the only 2 schools that offered a program for him were either an old, run-down campus in the middle of nowhere or an overpopulated city school known for its infamously average quidditch team, his decision wasn't difficult.
the dorms, however, made him reconsider entirely.
though harry was grateful to have a solo room, it was entirely bleak and smelled vaguely of mildew. one tiny window he's unable to open past a few inches and a depressing overhead fluorescent bulb was enough to have him searching the other university's dormitory information, only to be just as disappointed with the result.
harry gets over it quickly, as it becomes fitting to his mental state at the time. plain, cold, and unforgiving, harry feels like it's what he deserves to live in after everything he's seen.
to say harry hadn't been doing well after the war was a criminal understatement. his whole life had been leading up to and dedicated towards killing voldemort before he killed harry first. in that time, he held a purpose and drive to fulfill everyone's expectations of him. and, once he did, he was left with nothing.
voldemort had consumed harry's entire life, and the lives of everyone around him as well. though they technically both died, harry had the choice to live again. after he made that choice, he was never the same.
the relationships around him were changed forever. he lost friends. he lost family. he lost himself. and yet, life continued.
applying for university felt so silly to harry at the time. he had just fought in a war and died, and now he had to sign up for 9 a.m. transfiguration classes. to say he was uninterested was putting it lightly.
it didn't help that he knew no one there. it was nobody's first choice school by any means, and it didn't exactly have the best reputation. his classmates fizzled out into other schools or already had jobs, like ron…
ron and hermione. seems like lately wherever hermione went, ron followed. of course she got accepted into some of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, with some practically begging her to pick them over the others.
in the end she chose westminster, a legendary university along the northern ireland coast that saw many great members of the ministry in its time. harry's school was practically the furthest it could've been from her all things considered.
ron worked for the ministry office in the area like his father, though he was more like an assistant or secretary than an active member. still, he was paid well and ultimately he and hermione were able to find a place near both of their priorities that worked well for them.
harry knew he wouldn't see them very often at this point. no matter, his relationship with them had long since changed, and not for the better. ron had lost his brother and hermione had lost her parents. once the calm settled after the storm, there was a lingering tension between him and them that went unmentioned for over a year before they split ways silently.
harry still talked to hermione towards the end, mainly to discuss ron and his grief. harry knew the growing coldness between him and his friend wasn't unjustified. harry felt a level of guilt that he previously thought was impossible when it came to fred, and though ron never out right blamed harry, it was just never the same between them.
harry knew their relationship wasn't completely at a loss. like hermione told him, it just needed time. once they both process what happened they can always come back to each other.
but for now, harry was alone. completely and utterly alone.
his first day of classes were confusing, boring, and packed with students. seriously, every seat in every lecture hall was filled, and the hallways were just a mess. the sidewalks weren't much better with too many people being too loud, walking too slow or too fast. in the end, harry was exhausted by the time he showed up for his last class of the day.
another packed room despite his effort to be there earlier than he planned. rather than a lecture hall like all his other classes that day, this last one was set up with plenty of tables and cauldrons. potions. harry loved this class at hogwarts. as his eyes scanned the room for an empty seat, he felt eyes fixated on him from every direction.
though he looks like the same harry potter everyone's read about, he's completely different now. his once bright eyes and radiant smile have been replaced with eye bags and unkempt facial hair. both his short beard and his overgrown hair gave him a messy, disheveled appearance that was rougher than people remember. but, as always, the glasses had never left, and neither had his scar.
ignoring the curious glances and whispers, harry takes a seat towards the middle of the room at an empty table. as more students filed in, his table became the last place to sit. he couldn't help but feel like an outsider, his first day and he already had a reputation.
as the final bell rings, the last student comes walking through the doorway.
it's you.
you're walking quickly, rushing into the classroom just as the ringing of the bell comes to an end. right behind you is the professor, a man of small stature with an impressive beard yet bald head.
"ms. [y/l/n]." he simply states.
you stop in your tracks, a look of defeat crossing your face as you slowly turn to him.
"professor rodden." you respond cheerfully. "it's nice to see you."
he looks unimpressed with your tone.
"we should try to be a bit more punctual next class period, hm?" he asks condescendingly.
harry is taken aback by the immediately intense interaction between the two of you. there's clearly an established relationship there that doesn't seem to be positive.
he can't see the look on your face as your back is turned to him, but he can hear the forced smile in your voice as you cordially respond, "of course. my apologies."
you turn on your heel, facing harry as you quickly find your seat across from him at his table. with all eyes on you, harry looks away and at the front of the room towards professor rodden.
rodden had an indistinguishable look on his face about the situation, but quickly moved on with introducing the class. as he shut the door and began writing on the board, harry took a moment to look back at you.
somewhere in that time you had pulled out a book and ink pen as you began taking notes. your hair fell around your face as you concentrated on your penmanship; a slight furrow of your brows and pursing of your lips.
you were gorgeous. he couldn't deny it.
something about the way you got lost in your notes was so mesmerizing to him. the intense exchange between you and the professor seemed to have no effect on you as you continued to scrawl your thoughts onto parchment. harry couldn't imagine himself being so calm as to just begin jotting down notes immediately after such a conflict.
his eyes flickered from your concentrated expression to your ferociously moving hand, writing line by line in succession without so much as a second's pause. he had to admit he was impressed with you, but he wasn't quite sure how to describe it.
finally, you felt his curious gaze on you.
looking up at him, harry's struck with how beautiful your eyes were. his heart jumps along with his stomach, he's never had such a physical reaction to someone's features before. you're just, so…right. like everything about you just makes sense together.
harry's used to people recognizing him pretty quickly, mostly before he even sees them first. it almost feels like having a big sign taped to his back that says "harry potter, the boy who lived twice". but, you…you just looked at him. simply looking, nothing more.
he felt so see-through at that moment, like you were looking right past him. he could feel his heart thumping, and would be surprised if you couldn't hear it for yourself.
you give him the most casual smile in the world, barely an acknowledgement of his existence in that moment, and yet it fills him with something entirely warm and familiar. he's sure he looks completely lost staring at you, turning his head at the last moment to relieve you of his gaze.
it's a simple, introductory, first day of class. you're all let out half an hour early with no assignment other than to show up for the next, real class on wednesday.
as you're packing up to leave, harry is back and forth between introducing himself to you or letting you leave. surely you'll talk to him at some point during this class, right? especially if no one else seems to sit with you two for the rest of the semester.
but, as you turn your back to him to leave, he makes the split second decision that he can't let you leave without a proper introduction.
quickly gathering his books, harry follows you out the door along with the ridiculous amount of students flooding the halls. scrambling for a reason to talk to you, harry catches up to your left side as you look over at him with surprise.
"how does rodden have it out for you already, hm?"
it's a genuine question he has, but he's not sure it's a great topic to bring up during your first interaction.
looking up at him as you both walk away from the classroom, your cheeks go red as you chuckle dryly to yourself and look away. "oh, arthur?" you ask.
harry's shocked. not just at the way you're looking at him, but the boldness of calling your university professor by their first name so casually. he doesn't know how to respond.
"he's a total wanker," you say with a smirk. "had him 3 semesters in a row now and he just…ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes. harry is even more at a loss. he's surely never called anyone a wanker, let alone a professor, but he can't help himself from laughing at your frustration.
"oh? what's so bad about him?" harry asks as he continues to follow you outside, a cool breeze blowing your hair back in the most cinematic moment harry's ever experienced in real life. as you look up at him, your eyes catch the sunlight and practically melt him on the spot. his breathing hitches at your shy smile and rosy cheeks, and he just couldn't understand how a human could look like that so casually.
"honestly, he's not so bad. he's actually quite a good professor…" you say with a twinge of guilt, turning to look ahead of you. "he just doesn't like me, i guess. we don't see eye to eye, to put it kindly." you laugh it off.
harry doesn't understand. you seem like such a pleasure to be around, and he's only known you these past few minutes. how could anyone dislike you? especially when they're looking into those eyes.
he continues to walk with you, asking about your classes and what your schedule's like. no other classes together, to harry's disappointment, but it's because you're a year above him.
"wow, have any advice for a first year, then?" he asks. it feels like a bit of a silly question, but he just wants to keep talking to you.
you chuckle, like you do after everything he says. he's not sure what to make of it, hoping it's that you truly do find him that funny. "well, i guess i would just tell you to study constantly, keep to yourself, but don't take any shit." you smirk at him again.
he likes that advice. he can already tell you're the type to not let anyone push you around, like with rodden. he likes that about you. you're a bit more confident than him, and you're not afraid to be bold despite your naturally sweet, gentle nature. you're funny, witty, intelligent, and, of course, unbelievably beautiful.
harry just keeps coming back to it through your walking and talking together. every time he looks at you he instantly loses his place in time. it's like everything goes quiet for just that split second that you're looking at him. he's never felt like this, but he's practically addicted to the feeling after the 10 minutes it took for him to walk you to your next class.
before parting ways, he asks for your name. "well, it's nice to meet you then, [y/n]. i'm–" "harry, right?" you ask sarcastically, giving him a cheeky smile. normally that answer would have left him defeated, you already knowing who he was, but for some reason, it didn't feel so bad this time. you never acted like you knew him once this whole conversation. you just let him talk and ask questions without feeling like he was anyone special.
well, of course he felt special. when you looked at him, that is.
he didn't want to let you leave, it physically hurt him to say goodbye. but he wasn't about to creep you out already. no, he had to make a good impression with you. so, he simply turned around and walked away, knowing he would see you again soon.
and as harry walked to his potions class that next wednesday, he had the biggest pep in his step he's had in a while. you'd think there was a tree full of presents waiting for him in that classroom the way he practically jogged through the maze of people between him and you.
as soon as he walked in, he saw you.
how could you get even more beautiful than you were before? he's actually taken aback for a moment as he makes eye contact with you. his heart is so loud in his ears it's deafening. as he slowly makes his way towards the table left for you two, he can't help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips.
"[y/n]." he says, letting it roll of his tongue. you smile warmly at him, your eyes softening. "harry. it's nice to see you again," you chirp.
he's just mesmerized by you yet again, the way you say his name is like a song he never wants to turn off. he's pretty much in complete awe of you as he sits across from your seat.
you chat a bit before class starts, an introduction to your first experiment. professor rodden explains that each table of four will split into partners for each assignment. as harry instinctively looks at you, he's already meeting your eager gaze.
he can't help it when he smiles like a fool at you. he can just hardly believe someone as amazing as you would want to spend even more time with him.
after class, you gush to harry about how excited you are to be potion partners together. his face completely flushes as he tries to return the sentiment, thanking whatever luck he has in this universe to be deserving of this opportunity to be with you all semester, twice a week at least, not including outside studying and walking you to your next class.
that night, after exchanging numbers with you to "discuss class", he finds himself staring at the number you scrawled on a ripped piece of notebook paper along with your name. he just holds it for a while, tracing the curves of your name with his eyes. you're just so amazing to him in every little way.
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weeks later, harry is a wreck.
you see, he's become, well…completely obsessed with you. every moment he spends awake is spent thinking about you. in the midst of hours-long homework sessions or mind-numbingly long exams, all he wants to do is think about you.
you two have become increasingly close over time, figuring out your commonalities and learning about each other's interests. you invited him to your dorm and he was amazed at your ability to dress up such a desolate space. it felt warm, inviting, and quickly became a common place for you two to spend your time together.
you also bonded over food, and would often meet up for lunches or dinners and sometimes even breakfast if you were up early enough to respond to his calls.
and you two were always studying together, you really inspired him to stay on top of his classes not only to keep up with you but to also impress you. he really admired your work ethic as a second year and would always ask for your help with assignments.
of course it was nice to have help, but he mainly just wanted you to sit closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you explained something complicated to him in your soft voice, pointing at the book that sat in his lap. you could read the most boring textbook to him and make it sound like the most interesting piece of literature in the world.
a lot of things he did were mostly just an excuse to have you pay attention to him in some way. if he felt a bit unwell, he'd play it up a bit to get your sympathy and a back rub. he still gets the most insane goosebumps thinking about your hands all over him.
if he was hungry, he was suddenly starvinggg and needed one of your amazing grilled cheese's made in the student common room kitchen. you would roll your eyes every time, reminding him that you don't do anything special to it, but he insists it's better because you make it specifically for him.
in short, he was head over heels for you. he pretty much knew that first day you two met that he was already smitten with you, but it took a while for him to fully realize just how deep he'd gotten himself into this.
not only had he learned your entire class schedule without asking you directly, he knew your schedule outside of class as well. not through any disrespectful tactics, he just so happened to always study at the library next to your dorm building with a perfect view of the door you go in and out of.
he also knew who all of your friends were, at least the ones he's seen you with so far. it's not difficult when the university yearbook practically gives away their books for free to get rid of them. that's also how he found out what clubs and organizations you're apart of, and knew exactly what to ask you to get you to talk about them with him.
see, some might see this and think harry's a bit creepy or overstepping some boundaries. and harry would agree.
he constantly feels guilty when it comes to his feelings for you. he's a complete gentleman when he's with you, but then he turns around and becomes this incessant stalker who needs to know what you're doing at all times.
that's not even the worst part. he feels so, so incredibly guilty about the thoughts he has of you.
harry's not one to feel shame from lust or masturbation, he doesn't have much experience with that stuff anyways so he never really understood the hype around it.
but now, things are different.
he's had random erections before, and he's gotten riled up from previous makeout sessions, but now, he was constantly horny.
all it took was an innocent look from you and he was hard. you often sat in your bed with him as you two studied and insisted on having a leg or arm touching him at all times, which made him completely hot and bothered. certain tones of voice you use or things you say to him can completely melt his brain on the spot.
this isn't meant to brag, harry felt truly awful for these one-sided thoughts. he felt like such a stereotypical man who thinks with his dick. the last thing he wanted was to make you think he saw you in a sexual way at all; he hated your stories about guys who only turned out to be sex fiends with no respect towards you. his blood boiled to think about it, actually, and swore to himself he would always be your friend first despite what he may feel towards you.
this is where the guilt was heaviest. you were constantly saying he was your best mate, one of your closest friends, someone you can really trust, and he held that so close to his heart. above all else, he cared about you so deeply. he wanted to keep you safe.
so when he started to think these thoughts or feel these feelings, harry beat himself up. how could he truly be a good friend to you if he was just so obsessed with you in every way?
you two had just finished up the last steps of your potion experiment for professor rodden's class in the library that harry frequented by your dorm building. as you and harry are talking and packing up to leave, you look out the wall of windows and laugh.
"hey, look. you can see my dorm perfectly from here." you say, pointing towards your building. harry freezes, feeling his mind go blank as you look back at him with a laugh. "little creepy," you say with a smirk, lifting your bag over your shoulder and the rest of your books in your arms.
harry is still frozen, terrified you're going to somehow figure out that that's exactly what he's been doing for the past month now.
"yeah, weird." is all he managed to get out.
as he walks you into your dorm, he barely has the door closed before you start taking your shirt off right in front of him, not even 3 feet away.
harry immediately turns around, letting the door close in front of him. "oh, sorry." he quickly mutters, his heart racing yet again. he didn't even see anything crazy, just the small of your back and the navy of your bra, but it was enough to immediately get him worked up.
he hears you laugh behind him, opening up your drawer. "you don't have to turn around, harry. i'm just changing my shirt." he can hear the smirk in your voice.
he's dumbfounded. all he's thought about for weeks is your body in front of him, and it's right here, and he can't bring himself to look. he feels each second pass by painfully slow, trying to answer himself as to why the fuck he's not turning around.
"okay, you can turn around now." you laugh as you roll your eyes at him. he slowly turns to you with an undoubtedly pale face and shocked expression.
you're standing at your drawer, new shirt fully on, and he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by watching, but you seemed okay with it. he's a bit lost in his feelings before you start asking him about something completely irrelevant, taking his mind off the mini-show he just got for free.
that night he's lying in bed, room completely dark except his bedside lamp, and he's thinking of you. like always.
as he replays the moment you took your shirt off right in front of his eyes, he finds himself grabbing for his cock without even meaning to. his hand wraps around the shaft as he begins thrusting his hips, imagining it's your hand like he has so many times before. it only takes a few seconds of stroking and thinking about your blue bra before he's made a mess of himself.
cleaning up afterwards was always the most guilt-ridden part of the entire experience. it was bad enough he thought of you sexually and constantly got hard just from you looking at him or calling him a loser as a joke, but to actually jerk off to the idea of you is something else entirely.
he tried not to get too down about it, plenty of guys do this right? whats so wrong with it if it doesn't affect his relationship with you?
except, it does. harry doesn't know how much longer he can go without telling you how he feels. the guilt he feels every time you refer to him as your best friend, not knowing he spends almost every night cleaning up his own cum off his chest just from thinking about your smile. how would you feel finding out your so-called best friend had these perverted thoughts about you?
as harry falls asleep, he hugs his pillow and pretends its you, asleep in his arms, completely safe.
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it's halloween, and harry's never been more excited.
you enthusiastically asked if you could do a matching costume with him, and he'd never been so quick to agree. wearing a matching costume with you to a university party was possibly the first step in becoming a real couple. he wasn't necessarily thrilled about going to a party, but he knew if he was with you he would enjoy himself no matter what.
you couldn't decide what you two should be until harry suggested pirates as a joke.
"oh my gosh, harry! that's perfect!" you said with a huge smile. harry laughed at you, shaking his head. "really? i was kidding." he deadpanned. you narrowed your eyes at him. "yes, really! i think it'd be so cute. and i have the perfect top."
harry gets excited once you say it's cute, and is just happy to be included in your plans.
you take harry shopping just a few days before the party to find pirate-like clothes and end up with a good collection of stuff. at the last minute, harry pays for everything you bought and you give him the biggest, warmest hug he's ever gotten.
yeah, that was enough for him to know this was worth it.
the night of the party, harry feels a bit ridiculous walking up to your dorm in such a billowy white button up and the most uncomfortable, oversized pants he's ever worn. to top it all off his bandana didn't look right on his head, so he embarrassingly knocked on your door and waited for your reaction to his failure of a costume.
when you opened the door, he was stunned into silence.
you were just. so. hot.
your hair was loose around your face under a perfectly tied bandana, an off-the-shoulder white top similar to his worn over a red lace bra, along with ripped fish net stockings under a tied skirt and, shit, a fucking garter wrapped around your thigh.
to say he was insanely turned on and completely stunned by your beauty was an understatement. he couldn't believe this gorgeous woman in front of him was dressed like this to match with him at a party in front of everyone. he just couldn't stop staring at you up and down, not caring if you noticed him practically drooling over you.
"you look so cute!" you exclaimed at the sight of harry standing at your door.
he looked up at you, your soft eyes wide with excitement as you clasped your hands together. you motioned for harry to come in and opened the door further for him. he slid past you into your dorm room, intentionally breathing in your scent as he did, and practically fell apart at the seams. he was so, so attracted to you right now.
"but, let me fix that bandana." you say with a giggle. he turns around and you're already reaching for his head. his breath gets caught in his throat as your arms wrap around his head, retying the bandana tightly just below his hairline. you pull away a bit and smile at him before looking down at his shirt, reaching for that as well.
harry carefully watched your fingers begin to unbutton his white shirt, his world stopping in its tracks in this moment. he was so lost until you said, "gotta show off the chest hair."
as you continue to adjust his shirt with the top buttons undone, he can't help but admire your body and outfit from this angle, this close. everything worked together so well on you, and fit you perfectly in every spot. he felt like such a joke standing next to you, who could ever compare to such a goddess like yourself?
on your way to the party just outside of campus, you felt chilly in just a skirt and cropped top. harry noticed instantly. "cold?" he asks. you nod, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you start to shiver. harry instinctively wraps an arm around you before he can even process what he's doing. "uh, is this any better?" he inquires.
you look up at him with those damn eyes, and he's lost once again. "a lot better." you say sweetly.
at the party, you stick with him for a bit until a few friends pull you away to do some shots. he gives you a reassuring smile as he tells you to go, and he watches your barely-covered ass as you run along.
and so do a few other guys.
harry notices at least 3 guys around him who watch you leave, and at least one of them makes some snide comment about you to a buddy. his blood boils like he's never felt before. he could feel himself tensing up as he imagined what he would do to them if they ever tried to touch you.
harry takes a deep breath and finds a bathroom, running some water over his face to calm down. you were not his girlfriend. not even close. but he felt like any other guy who looked at you was looking at what was his. he was there for you 24/7, he knew your favorite everything, he saw how beautiful you were in all your states, not just dressed up at some costume fraternity party, and though that gives him no right over you, he just couldn't help but feel protective over someone who means so much to him.
you find each other again at some point during the party, and you're a bit drunk. harry finds it somewhat amusing at first, but quickly hates the way those guys are looking at you again. so, he wraps your arm around his waist, tells you it's time to go home, and you mindlessly abide.
on the way home he's completely in awe at the feeling of your arm wrapped around his waist, and his around your shoulder. he felt like you looked like a proper couple, matching costumes and all, and he loved that thought.
as he walked you into your room, you immediately began stripping off your accessories. he was caught in that same predicament he found himself in not too long ago. does he casually let you unclothe in front of him or turn around and give you the privacy you deserve?
he quickly decided on the latter and turned away, making sure the door was locked for your privacy. you started giggling infectiously, stumbling around behind him. "you ok?" he asked with a smirk, amused at the sound of you struggling.
"no, need helppp," you whine, slurring your words slightly while still giggling. harry freezes. he hadn't even considered that you might be too drunk to get undressed by yourself. he's even more conflicted than before.
"m-my help?" he asked. obviously he knew the answer, he just didn't feel right taking your clothes off of you while you were intoxicated. "well duhh…" you giggled, taking another stumbling step behind him.
what should he do? if he says no you might feel like he's annoyed with you or doesn't want to help you out, when that couldn't be further from the truth.
before he can make a decision, you turned him around, his eyes landing on your glazed over eyes.
you had taken off the bandana and gotten your shirt partially off before asking harry for help. he's a bit startled to see you half dressed in front of him, but he quickly makes the decision to be professional and friendly about this situation.
he helps you take off your shirt the rest of the way, and unties your skirt around your waist. harry tries to divert his eyes as he does so to give you the most privacy possible in this moment, though his mind was pushing the most sinful thoughts he could muster.
his hands were shaky as he put both your skirt and top in the laundry, not even noticing how hard and fast his heart was beating until he took a moment to breathe.
just behind him, he hears you take a seat on your mattress. "can you take my shoesss pleaseee," you whine, sticking your left heel in the air towards harry.
the sight that beholds him in this moment is unholy.
you, practically naked except for your underwear and fishnet stockings, pointing a bright red heel at him with a pouty face as you wait for his help. he could devour you whole right here, right now. the fact that he hasn't kissed you yet tonight honestly had harry impressed with himself.
he nervously swallowed before reaching for your shoe, carefully sliding it off your foot as you gracefully lift the other leg towards him. he takes that heel as well and sets them next to your other shoes. he reaches in your closet for a big, comfy t-shirt and turns around to give it to you.
he sees you on your back, rolling around on the mattress, struggling to get your fishnets off, laughing to yourself as they get tangled on your legs. harry cant help but laugh at you as well, your carefree intoxicated state was just so adorable to him.
harry briefly helps you out of the stockings before handing you the t-shirt. "here, is this okay to sleep in?" he asks, putting the stockings on your dresser. "yeah!" you say cheerfully. "thanks, harryyy," you coo. harry immediately blushes, the way you carried out his name just made his heart sing. he was so lucky to be this close to you.
"gotta take this off," you say, pulling at the straps of your bra. harry nods and turns away. you giggle softly, grabbing for his hand. he turns to you in shock, looking down at your hand as you stand up from the bed.
"help me?" you ask seductively.
harry is frozen. are you meaning to be so overtly flirty right now? is this a bit from the alcohol? are you about to start laughing him off and put the shirt on anyway?
but you don't, you just patiently wait for his answer with puppy dog eyes. he glanced between you and the t-shirt in your hand, clearly a worried look taking over his expression.
"you don't have to," you say softly. that snaps harry out of his daze. "n-no, of course i'll help," he says eagerly. you smile again and turn around, gathering your hair to one side to get it out of the way for him.
harry has never been so aroused in his life. this is the most intimate he's ever been with anyone. he's never unclasped a bra before, and worries he's about to make a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful girl in the world.
but he soon figures it out and manages to unclasp it for you. "there you are," he assures you. you slowly turn around, your arms crossed in front of your chest as you hold the bra up. harry's completely infatuated with the delicious sight of you in front of him in this moment, but quickly diverts his gaze to an uninteresting part of the room.
"harry, do you want to see my boobs?"
harry snaps his head back at you with concern. his brows are furrowed and mouth agape. you have a genuine expression but your eyes are still a bit bloodshot.
"wh…what?" he choked out. he can't believe you asked that, even in this state. you've truly never showed interest in harry like this before, only subtle touches and looks that he interpreted how he wanted, but never anything like this.
well, unless you count the other day when you undressed near him.
but that was friendly, wasn't it? you were just changing, lots of friends change in front of each other. but this was completely different, you were purposefully exposing yourself to him. not only that, but you were asking him if you could, as if it wasn't the only thing he wanted in this moment.
"do you wanna see my boobs?" you ask again, giggling slightly.
harry blinks a few times, trying as hard as he can to not ogle over your body. this is all he's wanted, for months this is the only thing he's wanted, but right now just didn't feel right. you weren't fully aware of what you were doing or saying, and he couldn't, in good faith, continue further with this situation.
he carefully places his hands on your crossed arms, keeping them close to you as he talks.
"[y/n], you're drunk right now. and while i helped you get undressed, which was already a bit over the line, i don't want you to do something you'll regret."
you give him a look he can't quite decipher. your smile drops, your eyes focus, and your arms tense.
"i'm sorry," you say softly.
harry quickly reassures you. "don't be! seriously, don't be. i am so, so glad that you trust me enough to help you in this state. truly. it means the world to me, because i care about you so much." he gives you a warm smile.
you smile back at him. "then i hope you understand when i say i want to do this,"
you begin to pull your arms away from your chest, but harry is still holding them. he looks you in the eyes with worry, afraid of what you're about to do, yet more excited than he's been in a long time.
"but [y/n]..." he protests. "please?" you ask simply.
harry is reluctant, but he can tell you're going to be insistent, so he slowly lets go of your arms as you remove your bra from your body.
harry glances at your chest, his heart dropping. you're perfect.
perfect, perfect, perfect.
your skin looked so beautiful in the lowlight provided by your lamps and fairy lights. the curves of your boobs looked so soft and untouched. this was the first time harry was seeing tits in real life, and he was pretty sure this was the best they could possibly get.
he looks back up at your eyes, a shy smile spread across your expression. "beautiful…" harry whispers before he even realizes what he's saying.
you giggle, unfolding the shirt you handed him and swiftly pulling it over your head. "thanks, harry," you say so casually, turning around to make your bed so you can sleep in it.
he can hardly believe what's just happened. the girl of his dreams, the girl he'd practically been obsessed with for months, just willingly showed him her boobs for fun. though you were intoxicated and would most likely regret it tomorrow, hopefully not mad at him for letting it happen, he was still grateful that you felt that level of trust with him in any capacity.
what he wasn't grateful for, however, were these bloody pirate pants that gave him the most uncomfortable erection of his life. this was also definitely the hardest and most turned on he had ever been, so he's not sure if there's any comfort to be had in this moment anyway. while you focus on the bed, harry takes a step away and tries to calm himself down, thinking different thoughts to try and let the hornieness subside for just a bit longer.
as you plop into bed and begin getting comfortable, harry turns off a few lamps for you but keeps on the fairy lights in case you need the bathroom at any point.
"do you need anything before i head out, [y/n]?" he asks.
you sit up in your bed, a look of pain on your face.
"you're leaving me?"
harry is utterly heartbroken at the tone of your question. you sound so genuinely upset he immediately comes to comfort you, sitting on the edge of your mattress.
"oh, no, i-i won't if you don't want me to." he stumbles out. harry wasn't planning on staying, he was actually just imagining how good of a jerk he was about to have in 10 minutes, plus he's never technically stayed the night with you before. but he quickly pushes his perverted thoughts of you to the side and knows it's much more satisfying to him if he stays here and makes sure you're okay through the night.
you reach for the bandana that's still tied around his head and pull it off swiftly, leaving his hair disheveled. you throw it across the room with a laugh.
"sleepoverrrr" you cheer, patting the spot next to you on the bed. harry laughs with you, standing up and realizing he's still dressed as a pirate. "i didn't bring any clothes…" he says with a twinge of sadness.
you look at him confused. "you're a guy, just sleep naked." you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. harry is a bit stunned at this statement but quickly laughs you off, going to your drawers to look for a pair of pants. besides, he's still slightly struggling with a situation in his boxers and being naked next to you wouldn't exactly help him out.
he eventually put together a shirt and pants combo that fit him comfortably enough to sleep in. "hope you don't mind," he says as he changes into them.
"not at all," you say, watching him change in the lowlight. there's something in your voice that makes harry feel feral, an overwhelming desire to just let go and release the tension between you two. at least, the tension he thinks is there.
he quickly gets dressed, setting his pirate clothes and glasses on your dresser as the sleep begins to settle into his bones. he crawls into bed next to you, and is quickly invited to join you under the covers. he's a bit reluctant at first, but realizes he doesn't have much of a choice as he starts getting cold.
within a few minutes of saying goodnight to each other, you and harry drift off to sleep together.
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you're the first one awake, a splitting headache and dry mouth creating an unpleasant feeling immediately after opening your eyes. you rub the sleep away from them and reach for a glass of water on the nightstand next to you, sitting up a bit to sip slowly.
"good morning," a deep voice rumbles just beside you. you instinctively jump a bit before your brain quickly recognizes harry's tone and accent. as you turn to him, he's adorably disheveled wearing one of your university crewnecks under your blanket.
he smiles at you. he looks so different without his glasses on.
"morning, harry," you say groggily. the moment doesn't last long before another wave of your headache hits you, causing you to rub your forehead. you groan in pain. "what happened last night?"
harry's a bit frozen. this is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. you don't remember anything from last night. he should've just dropped you off here and left right away, not even letting there be a chance of anything happening.
he's brought out of his thoughts when you look back down at him, a look of curiosity in your eyes as you continue to rub your head.
harry also sits up a bit before climbing out of bed, putting his glasses on from the top of your dresser.
"well…" he starts out nervously, scratching his head. "we went to the party," he says as he begins to stretch his back out.
"oh yeah, the party. we were definitely the best costumes there." you recall the night fondly. harry laughs nervously, worried about how you're going to react when you find out he undressed you and even saw you nearly completely naked in such an intoxicated state.
"right, yeah, of course." harry chuckles dryly. "but, um…at some point you left me and started drinking, so we didn't stay for long." he says carefully, his mind racing as he slowly, nervously paces between your bed and your dresser.
"classic," you chuckle, reaching for a hairbrush as you begin to comb through your knotty hair. "thanks for bringing me home, harry," you smile at him.
the guilt twists in his stomach like a knife, he can't believe how innocent you are. but he also can't believe what happened between you two last night, and just how eager you seemed for it to happen. he has to stop thinking about it before he gets turned on again.
"of course, [y/n], but, um…" he takes a deep breath before he continues. "you look cute in my jumper, by the way," you interrupt him, standing up from your bed as you begin to collect toiletries to take a shower.
his brain fogs from the compliment, but doesn't let it distract him from what he knows he has to tell you.
"well, thank you, but, um…" harry says with a blush.
you give him a confused look. "what's up?" you ask him. he's just going to come right out and say it.
"look, [y/n], i don't know if you remember, but…you asked me to help you get undressed last night because you were too drunk," he spits out, trying to immediately gauge your reaction before continuing. you just give him an even more confused look. "oh, well, thank you then. is that okay?" you ask incredulously.
harry stiffens. "yeah, um…i didn't mind helping, of course, it's just…" you giggle, opening the door to your en suite bathroom that's barely bigger than the shower within it. "harry, you're such a dork. do you actually feel bad for taking care of me when i was drunk?" you ask sarcastically as you set down various lotions and hair products onto the sink.
he cracks a small smile at you calling him a dork, but it doesn't last long. his heart settles a bit after hearing your positive outlook on the situation so far, but it doesn't stop completely.
"it's not that, um…but, uh, afterwards, you, well, kind of…" he awkwardly tried to find the words.
"you…showed me your boobs." not the most eloquent way of putting it.
your face goes pale. his stomach drops immediately.
"n-not by my request or anything!" he quickly reassures you (and himself). "it's just, i told you you might regret it, but you were insisting on doing it anyways…" he doesn't want to feel like he's blaming you when he was the sober one in charge.
"oh…" you say despondent, seeming lost in your thoughts as you search his expression. he gives you a moment to process what he's said. "yeah…" is all he manages to say.
you sigh. "i'm sorry, harry. it was wrong of me to force that on you." your apology is so sincere, and it immediately confused harry. force that on him? bloody hell. you really had no memory of just how much he enjoyed himself in that moment. harry's sure he looked like a kid at a candy shop just staring at your beautiful body in the warm light.
"what? no! i-i'm sorry i let that happen," he responds with a ridiculous tone. "i was the sober one, i should've tried harder to–""to what? stop a drunk girl from showing her tits? yeah, good luck with that one." you laugh, cracking a joke.
harry's nerves are much more calm. he's insanely grateful that you seem to be taking this news well and aren't angry with him.
"look, harry…" you start, adjusting your shirt around your shoulders. harry's been stealing glances of your delicious thighs and legs every so often as you talked.
"i'm really grateful for you. just in general, but for last night especially. you helped me out, and you were a complete gentleman, at least from what i can remember…" you joke with him. he cracks a smile too.
"so don't stress about it, yeah?"
harry lets out a breath of relief, physically feeling the weight of the situation lift from his shoulders. "yeah, of course. i'm really grateful you trust me like that." he's in awe of your grace in this moment.
you smile, stepping over to the laundry next to your dresser. you grab a shirt and some pants from your closet, and, before harry even realizes what you're doing, you drop your underwear you were wearing last night to your ankles, stepping out of them and walking towards the bathroom again.
"gonna shower for a bit," you inform him as you close the door behind yourself.
harry's left behind, staring at the door before returning his gaze to your panties.
they're red, much like your bra from last night, and he remembers taking note of them to keep in his fantasies later for accuracy. but now, here they were, just laying right in front of him.
he finds himself still staring at them when he hears you turn the shower on and step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind you. he looks at the door, and looks back at your panties.
for a while he just looks at them incredulously, not entirely sure why this specific detail has made him so irrationally horny. you were completely naked on just the other side of this wall, but he's practically mesmerized by the image of you casually sliding your red panties down your legs right in front of him like it wasn't the most erotic thing he's ever witnessed in his whole life.
before he knows it, the shower turns off. he's still left staring at your red panties. as he shifts his weight, he can see that they're a bit wet and slick in the light from you wearing them all night.
he can't take it anymore. his erection from last night has returned with a vengeance this morning. before harry could even realize what he's doing, he's picked up your underwear carefully, holding them between his fingers, your wetness still soaking through the cotton.
his heart is racing as he hears you brushing your teeth. what is he doing? if you caught him being perverted with your panties like this after just reassuring him that he wasn't in the wrong for what happened last night, he'd surely be on your bad side. but he can't stop himself.
he brings them to his face and takes a slow, deep inhale.
you smell completely divine. slightly sweet, slightly bitter. he gets goosebumps just thinking about how you must really smell. his erection is raging beneath your sweatpants he put on last night, feeling incredibly dirty from being so turned on by your used panties.
his stolen pleasure is too quickly interrupted by the sound of the bathroom doorknob jiggling. shit. as you're about to open the door, harry panics and shoves your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants.
you come out with freshly damp hair and raw skin. the wonderful smell of your shower products fill the room as you brush through your hair casually.
harry keeps a hand in his pocket over the panties so you don't have the chance of catching him, and to better conceal the raging boner that's not going away anytime soon.
you don't say anything as you place your toiletries back in their rightful spots, humming to yourself as you comb through your hair occasionally.
so casually beautiful, so effortlessly pristine. you amazed him every time with just how ethereal you could be at any given moment. a freshly clean angel fluttering around the room without a care in the world.
you begin complaining of your hangover headache and ask harry to get food with you. he's more than willing, his stomach already growling in response for him.
at breakfast, you sit in silence with harry as you both hungrily devour the pancakes you ordered. harry got you two glasses of orange juice to keep you hydrated after last night.
after a while, you inform him you have to go study, and he offers to help you. "thanks, but i can't be distracted. this exam is going to kick my ass." you complained to him. harry gave you a look. "i distract you?"
you laugh at him, leaving him at the lunch hall with a simple, "goodbye, harry. call me later."
when harry gets to his dorm room, he realizes he's still wearing your clothes. and, shit, he's still got your panties in his pocket.
harry slowly reaches for them, feeling a twinge of guilt and lust once his hand finds the fabric. pulling them out, he's in shock that he actually stole a pair of your panties. to be fair he didn't intend to, he just panicked and wasn't thinking straight.
but, now that he has them…
keeping the red lace hanging from his fingers, harry climbs into bed and begins to remember those unforgettable moments with you just the night prior. it doesn't take much to get him just as riled up as before, imagining the moments he was undressing you in slow motion. taking your heels off as you looked up at him with the most seductive eyes in the world. seeing the flesh of your breasts for the first time in the dim lighting, imagining how they'd feel in his rough hands. god, he feels so bad finding pleasure in these moments, but he physically can't resist it.
his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as to savor the memories flashing through his brain. he's been aching for this release since seeing you in your costume last night, just another memory that brings him closer to the edge.
finally, he slowly brings your panties to his face. though they've since dried in his pocket during breakfast and the walk home, the lingering smell is still enough to drive him wild. he's breathing them in like it's oxygen and he's drowning.
just as he's nearing the end, he brings the panties to his other hand and begins stroking his cock with them. the sight alone is enough to break him, his cum spilling onto his hand and all over your red panties as images of your half naked body continue to infest his brain.
this time, the immediate guilt was the worst it'd ever been.
as he began to clean up, he realized just how much he ruined your panties in his excitement. his cum had soaked through the thin fabric and was already drying around it. he cursed himself for ruining such a sacred momento that he should've cherished, but also quickly cursed himself for thinking that way about you in the first place.
you even said yourself that harry was being a perfect gentleman last night. yeah, a gentleman with a raging erection the entire night who steals your used panties for his sick pleasure…
he continues to clean himself up, putting your panties in a safe place where nobody can find them and he won't lose them. even just the thought of them being in his possession was enough to get him riled up again.
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it's the stressful time between thanksgiving and christmas where school has the two of you completely spread thin. harry's constantly writing essays while you seem to have endless lab experiments to finish for other classes. the one saving grace is your potions class together, twice a week. it's what kept harry sane during this chaotic time.
spending even just this short hour and 15 minutes with you is enough to fulfill harry. he hasn't properly hung out with you in nearly two weeks and was missing you like he was withdrawing.
sitting close to you to copy some notes about the potion you two are working on, harry admires your handwriting for the millionth time since he's met you. "i just don't understand how you write so well, i can barely read my own," harry jokes, holding out his notebook, making you laugh and blush.
the potion you're working on is one that allows the consumer to communicate with animals for a short period of time. it's rather complex, but harry helps you keep things organized and encourages you when you get frustrated.
"i just don't get it, how is it 3 drops and not 6? i swear it was 6 last week…" you groan, looking through your notes as you set down the tincture, rubbing your face, exasperated.
harry sets a reassuring hand on your arm. he's gotten pretty good at being more physical with you, and isn't afraid to touch you casually like you always have with him. "hey, [y/n], it's okay," he tells you, catching your eyes with his. "it's been a stressful week, yeah? just a mistake, no big deal."
you give harry that same, warm smile you delivered on your first day meeting him. he often looks back at that day fondly, forever grateful he got the sudden courage to talk to you after this class. not only were you now his closest friend, you were also the light of his life.
as harry finishes up, he hands you the round vial full of luminescent, purple potion. "here you are, test it out."
you take a small swig of it just as professor rodden makes his way to your and harry's table. next to the table is a bird's cage on a hook, with a sweet owl inside named jewel.
you make eye contact with the owl, and begin to speak. to you and everyone else it just sounds like regular english, but the owl begins to hoot and flap its wings at you immediately.
"hello, jewel, how are we feeling today?" you coo.
amazing, incredible, unbelievable! jewel's hoots become intelligible to your ear as you practically jump up and down with a huge smile on your face. "it worked, it worked!" you announced to harry, instinctively jumping in his arms for a hug as he spins you around excitedly.
"yes! you did it! see, i knew you could." harry exclaims, setting you down and giving you a toothy grin.
you look at jewel again, who is turning her head at you every which way. how nice, you and the boy! how sweet indeed! her loud hoots make the class silent as they watch you interact with her.
"what's she saying?" harry asks curiously. you give him a shy smile, feeling your face turn red. "she likes us." you're not totally lying.
"well, ms. [y/l/n], i must tell you i'm quite impressed. not just at how quickly you two perfected this potion, but of your performance this semester overall." professor rodden compliments you. he turns to harry. "i see mr. potter has been a positive influence on you this year."
harry quickly shuts him down. "actually, sir, if you don't mind me speaking out of turn, [y/n] has helped me way more this semester than i've helped her. she's brilliant."
professor rodden turns to you, a pale face and shocked expression, and gives you a smile. "well, then, hat's off to you, ms. [y/l/n]." he says, bowing to you before continuing with his rounds in the classroom. "thank you, professor rodden."
after class, you're all over harry, resting your head on him, hugging him, touching him randomly, but he's not complaining of course. he feels lucky enough that you're so comfortable around him as to be touchy feely.
"thank you, by the way. for what you said to rodden." you thank him as you two walk into your dorm room. harry takes his usual seat at your computer desk. "of course, i wasn't about to let that wanker give me credit for all of your hard work." harry says, laughing. he's become so much more confident with you, even using your lingo in his own vocabulary.
"no, really, thank you. just, for everything." you smile at him. "you're the best friend i could ever ask for."
harry feels his smile slightly falter. he's always reminded that that's all you are is friends, and while he's insanely grateful for your friendship, probably more than anything else in his life, he just can't help but feel a bit lost at this point. he's insanely attracted to you, ferociously protective over you, and, yet, can't bring himself to tell you any of this.
"you're welcome, [y/n], but if anything i should be thanking you. you don't even know how much you've helped me, not just with school but with everything. you're, like, the only friend i have at this point." harry laughs, but it's true. he's tried to make friends in other classes this year but has been disappointed each time, they're just not you.
you give harry a sad smile. "that's not true, ron and hermione are still your friends. more than that, they're practically your family." you walk over to him and run your hand through his hair, something you know he loves. he looks up at you slightly through his eyelashes.
"hermione's right, they'll come back to you one day. just give it some time, yeah?"
harry melts into your touch. nobody can settle his mind like you do. he didn't exactly look for pity from people, but you were someone he felt so safe with that he could be completely vulnerable in front of you. the reassurance and love that you provided him in these moments healed him in a way he didn't understand.
"right," he sighs, giving you the same sad smile.
you whine and pull his head into your chest, resting your own head on top of his. "awh, i hate seeing you so sad." you say sympathetically, still running your fingers through the back of his hair.
if harry's being completely honest, he's not sad at all anymore. how could he feel anything but pure bliss with his head buried in your sweater and your fingers leaving goosebumps throughout his scalp? he leans into you like a dog being pet, so desperate for your touch.
you stay like that with him for a while, just enjoying each other's company. harry found solace in your heartbeat, feeling truly at peace for the first time in weeks. "i've missed you." harry practically moans, intoxicated by your warm scent, his eyes fluttering closed.
you hum, smiling softly to yourself, feeling harry practically melt into your arms. "missed you too, harry," you coo, enjoying the feeling of being together.
"the semester's almost over, then it's christmas." you remind him, lifting your head as you look down at his closed eyes. he looks so peaceful resting against you.
harry smiles. almost christmas. but more importantly, almost your birthday.
harry very vividly remembers a conversation he had with you towards the beginning of your friendship about birthdays and how neither of you particularly enjoyed them.
your birthday fell close to christmas, so, inevitably, it became synonymous with christmas growing up. never really getting a separate party or separate presents, you learned to not expect much the actual day of, and to rather wait for christmas so you could be celebrated on the side.
harry was having none of this. he thinks you forgot about the conversation with him completely, but he's thought about it constantly since then. he's been planning on giving you a special birthday on your actual birthday this year, and he's practically dying to tell you. but he doesn't, and he won't, because it has to be a complete surprise.
"hm. christmas." is all he says, tilting his head back to look up at you. from every angle he finds you so fascinating, you just get prettier and prettier the more he truly looks at you.
you're gazing at him so gently, so warmly, your hand practically cradling his head against you. harry blinks and you're suddenly leaning forward, planting a soft kiss against his forehead.
harry could've died happy at that moment.
he brings his head away from your chest as you step away, soft smile and blushing cheeks. watching you turn and start folding laundry mindlessly, harry feels the lingering kiss tingling his skin.
for a brief moment, he imagines himself coming up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, feeling you, pushing you to the bed…
harry quickly shakes his head, grinding his teeth at the horny urges he gets at the most simple actions. what other boys in university get an erection so quickly from a forehead kiss? sometimes harry felt like such a loser, not just with you, but with sex in general.
he never thought about it much before you, so it's not something he knows a lot about. he'd masturbated before, but not as often as he does now, or in the same way. usually he thought about making out with someone, maybe touching them, but now…he just felt so dirty, the things that his brain creates about you.
once you finish the laundry, you ask for his help to put stuff away. he's done this for you many times before, so he knows where you like everything to be.
he hangs up a few shirts and puts away some jeans and socks. he turns around to see you handing him a pile of your panties loosely stacked together. "here," you say as you're turned the other way, gathering another pile of clothes with your other arm.
harry is frozen for a second before reluctantly taking the underwear from you, immediately feeling his face flush.
he's instantly reminded of your panties sitting in his room right now. the panties he stole. the panties he masturbated with.
he's since washed them and keeps them out of guilt, partially, but he's not quite sure how to subtly return them to you. not like he wants to anytime soon.
as harry turns around and opens the drawer you put your panties in, he takes his time so he can admire all the different pairs in his hand. pinks, purples, reds, neutrals, blacks, he was practically holding a goldmine. it almost made him chuckle, the irony of you asking him to put these away.
he neatly tucks them into the drawer, admiring them one last time before slowly closing it.
for the first time that month, you and harry actually have the freetime to leave campus and get food together. your favorite diner is open all night and serves the best milkshakes either of you have ever had.
"how are we splitting the checks?" the older waitress asks, eyeing harry up and down. before you can say anything he tells her just one, handing her his card out of nowhere.
as she walks away you give him an evil look. "you don't always have to pay for everything, y'know? i'm perfectly capable of paying for myself or the both of us." you tease him. he smiles. "i know." he states simply.
you finish your milkshakes within minutes, handing your cherry to harry like you do every time. "cherry for harry," you always say. it always gets a smile out of him.
after a few minutes of chatting alone in the diner, the bell at the front door rings. you get a big smile across your face as you stand from the booth. "thomas?" you ask.
harry turns around to see a man in a quidditch uniform, his hair sweaty and book bag full to the brim. he's carrying his broomstick around, like a total tool if you ask harry, and gives you the cheekiest smile possible.
"[y/n]?" he asks.
harry could've killed him just for saying your name the way he did. like a predator hunting its prey again.
harry's anger immediately worsened when you practically jumped on this guy to give him a hug. nothing like the hug you gave harry in class today, he wants to note.
harry stood up, causing the guy to look at him. he had a scar as well, one from quidditch harry would assume. a slash across his left eye, healed but still somewhat recent.
you look back at harry as well, smiling at him. "harry, this is thomas." you introduce them.
yeah, he picked up on that. harry's face was red from anger.
he reluctantly steps forward, offering his hand to the douchebag who still kept a light hand on your shoulder. harry wanted to break his wrist when he went in for the handshake, but instead he offered a polite, "harry. nice to meet you."
the guy, thomas, gives a half smirk. "harry potter." he states matter-of-factly.
harry was sure his anger was visible at this point. it was enough that this guy was touching you and clearly had a past with you, but for him to pull the boy who lived card on him in front of you was enough to make his fists ball up.
"that's me." he says, his tone dripping in sarcasm.
there's an awkward moment of silence as harry continues to stare thomas down.
"so. how do you two know each other?" harry asks you, his tone and gaze softening just looking at you.
"oh! um…" you start nervously.
"we dated back in high school." thomas finishes for you.
of fucking course you did, harry thinks.
"yeah…for, like, 2 months…" you awkwardly laugh off, clearly not the most comfortable discussing this in front of harry.
thomas laughs with you as the waitress hands him a to-go box. "well, i'll see you guys around," he says as he hikes up his bookbag. "it was nice to see you again, [y/n]."
if looks could kill, this guy would've been dead long before he left out the door. harry knew he was visibly upset when you looked over at him.
"you okay harry?" you ask with a laugh.
he breaks, looking at you with a smile as he loosens his tight muscles. "sorry, i'm fine," he says.
as you both put your coats on to walk home, harry can't help but replay the interaction in his head. "dated…in high school…" "yeah…for, like, 2 months…"
harry's mind was swimming as you left the diner with him, walking into a light snow. "wow," you sigh, looking around you. harry looks up. it's beautiful out. the snow gives everything a light, soft look under the street lamps. he looks down at you and smiles at you admiring the scenery.
sometimes it scares harry how jealous he gets when it comes to you, and how quickly it can happen. that guy did nothing but say your name and give you a 2 second hug, and he actually dated you, so what right does harry have to get upset as just your friend? but all he can think about on the walk to your dorm is pummeling this guy's stupid face into the ground.
harry hadn't told you yet, but he had actually been going to the gym lately with all the time he had spent away from you during the busy school weeks. nothing too intense, he actually focused on boxing and lifting specifically because he wanted to be better prepared to protect you in case anything happened to you. and for self defense reasons, of course, but mainly for your benefit. he would do anything for you.
upon arriving at your dorm, you plop onto your mattress with a groan. "too much milkshake," you whine.
harry chuckles at you, shaking the snow out of his hair. "i told you not to get the large." he smirks. you frown at him, making him laugh again. "it's not funny! and you're wrong, i deserved a large after this month." you protest.
he laughs you off again, taking a peek at your alarm clock next to your bed. his eyes widen. "bloody hell, since when was it half past 11?" he asks astounded.
you laugh at his shock. "time flies when you're havin' fun,"
harry rubs his eyes. "if i don't leave now i won't get enough sleep to make it to my 9 a.m." he groans, not wanting his time with you to end yet again.
"nooo," you whine, clearly wanting the same. he gives you a sad look at your tone. "stay?" you ask.
harry's a bit taken aback. he hasn't stayed the night since the halloween party. thinking about that night for even a split second makes him break a sweat. it's his most replayed memory. he could even call it his sexual awakening at the ripe age of 19.
"stay? are you sure?" harry asks. you immediately nod your head, smiling at him. he can't say no to you, and he doesn't want to. he has no reason to leave, anything he needs is already here.
"well, if you insist." he smirks. you roll your eyes, taking off your jacket and hat and setting them in your closet. "i only insist because that snow is turning into a storm." you reply. you're not wrong, harry would've had to walk for 15 minutes through heavier and heavier snowfall, not to mention the windchill.
"well, thank you." he says. you smile back at him before reaching to take your shirt off. harry's seen you in multiple states of undress since the halloween party, so it's not uncommon for you to just change at any point during your conversations.
but that didn't make it any less pleasurable for harry.
sometimes he just sat back and watched like it was a personal show just for him. he would memorize the shape of your back and, shit, the curve of your ass. he watched as you pulled down your jeans, left in nothing but a bra and panties. he tried not to stare but it was impossible to look away for too long, your ass was just perfect to him.
before too long you unclasped the bra hooks behind your back and let the black fabric fall into the laundry. you slipped on a big t-shirt, your favorite thing to wear to bed, and harry caught just the slightest glimpse of your tits from behind you.
as you turned around, harry quickly began taking off his wet, snow covered converse to appear as though he wasn't just observing you like his own personal dirty magazine.
when he looked up, you were handing him some clothes to change into. he thanked you, grabbing them as he took off his jeans and sweatshirt. harry had also learned to be more comfortable changing around you, even if it wasn't as often.
harry put on the sweatpants and fresh pair of socks before realizing you hadn't given him a shirt. he looked over at you and you were already staring at him.
"harry, have you been working out?"
his face flushed, feeling exposed with just a pair of sweatpants on his hips. you were looking at his body with an expression of shock and amusement.
"u-um, yeah, a bit…just between classes, get some stress out." he's not entirely lying, but he could never tell you the real reason.
you smile at him, but a different smile than normal. you're almost…nervous? you've never been nervous around harry, even when you two first met.
"you look…good…" you say with a slight crack in your voice, still looking at him. harry can feel his blood pumping, and he knows that can only lead to an eventual erection, so he turns around casually pretending to fold his jeans. "oh, thanks," he tries to say casually.
he can still feel your eyes on him as he hangs his sweatshirt on your coat rack. "damn, harry. you're like…ripped." you say with genuine shock in your voice.
harry turns towards you, but you're fixated on his exposed torso. he nervously laughs, not sure how to respond. of course he thought getting stronger would mean his body would inevitably look better, but he cared more about his ability to fight off any creeps he needed to in order to keep you safe. however, he hadn't necessarily considered your reaction to his transformation. he had somewhat forgotten you also saw him change his clothes that halloween night. he thought you had forgotten too.
"i don't know about that," he laughs awkwardly.
you just giggle and look away, shaking your head. you climb into bed and invite him next to you. harry accepts and joins you beneath the covers, turning off a lamp beside him.
after a few moments of silence, harry could hear your shallow, even breaths indicating you're asleep. he looked down at you, peaceful, beautiful. he sat up as gently as possible and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "goodnight, [y/n]."
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it was finally your birthday.
harry had been planning this day for weeks. he made sure to ask you way ahead of schedule when you would be seeing family so he could time everything perfectly.
he had completely set up your room to look like a birthday party for a kid. balloons, streamers, a birthday cake and ice cream, presents, even fun plates and napkins.
you should be coming home from going out to eat with your parents for brunch in about 10 minutes. harry made sure to call you before you left early in the morning to be the first to wish you a happy birthday.
as he was waiting for you to arrive, he made sure everything was perfect, down to the last balloon. he had put your favorite cd on and even lit a candle. he's not quite sure why, he just felt like it was right.
soon enough, he could hear your keys on the other side of your door letting yourself in, so harry positioned himself beside your bed and waited eagerly for the reaction he'd been thinking about for months.
when you open the door, you're a bit startled to see him at first. "surprise!" he says with a suppressed smile, trying to contain his excitement.
your eyes slowly examine the room, your jaw dropping as you bring a hand to your heart. "harry…" you choke out in a small voice, still noticing different details around you as the door closes behind you.
"happy birthday." he says lovingly, taking in every second of your realization.
"you…how did you…" you can't even get the words out as you set down your purse and coat on your bed next to your presents from harry.
"i've been planning this for weeks. i wanted to give you the birthday you never had." he tells you.
you look at him with tears in your eyes, quickly looking away and towards your dresser. "you got me a cake…" you say tearfully, walking up to the custom cake he had placed an order for an entire week ago.
"we also have reservations for the diner at 5. if you'd join me, of course." harry smirks. you chuckle at him, jumping in his arms and enveloping him in a hug. "thank you…" you begin to cry into his shoulder.
harry holds you tight, dazed from your scent and enjoying the softness of your hair. he rubs your back softly as you get the tears out, letting you know it's okay.
you pull away, wiping your tears as you laugh at yourself. "sorry, i just…this is so amazing of you harry."
"don't be sorry. i'm glad you love it." he reassures you, making you smile. "let's have some cake, hm?"
after some cake and ice cream as well as messing with the balloons and party favors, it was time for harry's favorite part. the presents.
he sat you both down on your bed and savored each reaction you had to each present. every thank you was followed by, "how did you know i wanted this?" "how much was this?" "how did you get this?"
harry had his ways. and again, he would do anything for you.
his last present for you, though, was the most important. he kept it beside him until the very end, handing it to you with a shy smile. you lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful necklace, one he saw you looking at multiple times while out shopping with you.
you were speechless. you looked at harry with the most genuine expression of shock, gratitude, and confusion. "harry…" you gasp. "you got this for me?" you ask.
harry chuckles. "do you like it?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"harry…you really shouldn't have…" you tell him, staring at the necklace in your lap. he smiles even bigger, the look on your face was already enough to convince him it was worth it. it was all worth it. "here, i'll put it on you."
you hand harry the necklace, turning and scooting towards him as you hold your hair to the side for him. he's immediately reminded of the night he helped you take your bra off.
he clasps the necklace together and you turn towards him, looking down at it with him. "wow, it looks great." he says with a smile.
you look up at him, your faces nearly touching. harry can barely process your beauty before you lean in for a soft kiss against his lips.
harry's completely frozen, not knowing what to do or what's even happening.
when you pull back, harry can barely breathe.
you look up at him, your eyes soft and eager. harry can't hold himself back anymore. you've kissed him first, that's all the permission he needs for now.
he lightly grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a bigger, deeper kiss. soon enough, you're making out with harry in your bed.
he's a bit rusty when it comes to kissing, but he plays it safe with you and keeps it soft and light. your hands have traveled to harry's neck and hair, pulling him closer to you.
after a minute or so, harry pulls away. "i love you, [y/n]." he admits. he just couldn't keep it in for much longer.
your eyes light up, a shy smile on your lips as you read his expression. "oh, harry. i love you, too." you reply breathlessly.
the kissing becomes more and more heated as you eventually push harry back onto your pillows. he's surprised, and completely aroused, trying to ignore his growing erection from simply kissing you.
you climb on top of him, the visual making harry sweat already. as you lean in to continue the kiss, your legs end up on either side of him, straddling his torso.
harry is at a loss. he never imagined his birthday surprise for you would end like this. did you really mean you loved him? like, loved loved him?
his hands went to your hips, savoring the feeling of your weight on top of him, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. eventually, he can feel your hips slowly rock back and forth on his lap.
he pulls away from the kiss, looking at you above him with wonder. it was everything he could've imagined. even better than the constant fantasies he had of you.
"is this okay?" you ask him softly, searching his eyes, grinding your hips into his a bit slower than before.
harry looks at you incredulously. "[y/n], this is all i've wanted for so long. please. use me." the desperation in his voice surprises him, he knew he wanted you this bad but he couldn't believe how quickly you had him begging.
you practically moaned at his desperate request. "fuck," you whisper as you go in for another kiss.
harry guides your hips into his, and he's sure you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. you're softly moaning into the kiss, stopping to catch your breath every so often as harry slightly thrusts his hips into you, desperate for more.
"oh, harry…" you moan, causing his eyes to roll in ecstasy. for so long he imagined how you'd sound moaning his name just for him, and he's more than happy with the real thing.
"you're so beautiful, darling," harry says, reaching for your flushed cheek.
you whimper at his voice, tangling a hand in his hair. "tell me again." you demand him.
shit. harry could seriously cum just from that. he's doing everything he can to keep this going as long as possible, but he's not sure how much longer he'll last under you.
"beautiful. so, so beautiful." he says between heavy breaths, watching your incredible body grind onto him for pleasure. "you have no idea how badly i've needed you," he looks back into your eyes, half shut with pleasure as you continue to blush.
"touch me." you tell him, putting your hair behind your shoulders. he looks up at you slowly moving up and down on his lap. he could watch you do this for hours. a dream come true.
one hand slowly makes its way towards your tits, massaging one through your clothes. harry's head rolls back in pleasure, hardly believing this was his real life. involuntary moans slip through his lips as you continue to dry hump him.
"fuck, harry…" you whimper, kissing him again. he can feel the necklace he got you against his hand as he continue to feel your tits. everything about this was perfect. as far as he was concerned, right now, in this moment, you were his and only his.
"i-i…i think i'm gonna cum…" you tell him between kissing. his hands grip you tighter, all he wants to do is please you, be the reason for your ecstasy.
"please, [y/n], please cum for me," he begs of you, feeling his own body tipping over the edge. you look him in the eyes, your hand on his cheek as your breathing gets more rapid and uneven.
you're whimpering, desperately grinding for relief on harry's jeans as he feels himself about to cum. "harry, please…" you beg.
harry slightly thrusts into you, meeting your rhythm as he pulls you closer to him. you begin to shake in his grip, your eyes and jaw going lax as your whimpers become breathless. your hand finds one of his and interlocks your fingers together. you squeeze his hand as you ride out your high. he's completely enthralled with your face and body's reaction to him. he could be here forever, letting you use his body for pleasure, and he would hurt anyone who tried to stop him.
as you start to come down from your climax, harry gently pulls you in for a weak kiss. you crawl beside him, hiding your face in his chest as you continue to catch your breath.
"that was…so hot…" you manage to say between breaths. harry laughs softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on your head. "you're amazing." is all he can say.
"so…did you…?" you shyly start to ask. "yes. i came in my pants." harry admits, hiding his face in your hair. you can't help but laugh a bit, looking down at his jeans. he looks down and sees a dark spot near the zipper.
"oh." you say, clearly amused. "how couldn't i? i had the most beautiful woman in the world orgasming on my lap." harry smirks.
you hide your face in his chest again, giggling. you look up at him with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and sore lips in a small smile. "i really do love you, harry," you speak softly.
"i love you too, [y/n]."
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it's the day after christmas, and you and harry had spent the holiday with your family. he loved your parents, and got on well with your siblings. he had even rented a room at a local inn near the area for you two to stay in. a private place to escape the chaos and have some alone time.
you and harry were practically all over each other all the time at this point. he couldn't help himself, all he ever wanted was to kiss you and now he could, whenever he wanted, and he was going to take advantage of that.
it was your last day at the inn, a cozy cottage type place with the softest beds you've ever slept in, and harry paid for all of it before you even knew about it. "merry christmas," he had told you.
you were eating your complimentary breakfasts together in silence, across from each other at the little table in the corner of the room.
"thank you, again, harry. this was a wonderful idea." you said as you finished your orange juice, admiring the snowfall out of the window. "it's so beautiful here."
"you're beautiful."
you give harry a look, but crack a smile. "and you're cheesy."
harry chuckles, admiring you like he always does. his soft eyes and kind smile give you butterflies.
as you're packing your clothes to get ready to leave, harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. you smile, giggling, continuing to pack your suitcase. his lips end up on your neck, but you ignore him as you put your panties inside the bag.
harry laughs to himself. you look over at him. "what?" you ask with a smile. he's blushing, shaking his head. "nothing, nothing." he continues to laugh.
"tell me," you say. he shakes his head again. "no, its…it's weird." he says. you can hear a bit of shame in his voice as he hides his face in your neck again. "harry, tell me. please?"
he can't resist when you ask nicely.
he sighs, taking a step away from you and sitting on the bed next to your suitcase. "well…" he starts, rubbing his face nervously. "um, after the halloween party…" he trails off.
"yes…?" you ask, amused at his shy demeanor.
"u-uh, the morning after, when you took a shower…" harry recalls, shifting his weight. "i may have, um…stolen your underwear you took off in front of me…." he cringes at his words, turning his head away from you.
"i knew it!" you declared, pushing his shoulder.
harry covered his face completely, feeling like he could burst into tears at any moment from the embarrassment.
"god, that's so bloody hot, harry," you practically moan, pushing his arms to the side and sitting in his lap. he's completely red in the face, bewildered by your reaction.
"wh…what?" he asks breathlessly.
you hold his face in your hands, admiring his shy expression as you sink into him. "you don't find that weird? or creepy? or extremely perverted?" harry asks you incredulously.
you giggle at him, your eyes full of love. "yes, harry, stealing my used panties behind my back is very perverted. if you did that to any other girl they may find it really disturbing." harry's heart drops, his eyes focused on you completely. "but, i like you. i've really liked you for a long time. and…i find it so fucking hot just how desperate you were for me…"
harry's heart is immediately pumping at your words. you wrap your arms around his neck as you force a kiss on him, his hands grabbing your waist with a hunger.
after a moment he pulls back, nervously blinking and clearing his throat. "um, that's not all, though," he says regretfully. you give him a curious look. "i might've, um…used the panties to masturbate…" he admits.
you smile at his nervousness, biting your lip and giving him a desperate look. "oh, harry, tell me what it was like…" you moan as you begin kissing his neck.
harry's voice is caught, his head rolling back in pure bliss. sometimes he still can't believe this is real life.
you continue to bite at his neck, leaving marks as harry tries to find the words. "i, um…" his hand travels to your ass. "well, i smelled them first…" you moan against his skin, your legs tightening around him. "go on…" you say with a smile.
harry's trying to focus on the story without getting distracted by your lips. "they smelled so good, and you almost caught me, so i put them in my pocket," harry fights back a moan.
"so naughty," you tease him, pushing him onto his back. "tell me more." you demand.
harry nervously swallows at the sight of you above him. you hadn't done anything since your birthday just a few days previous, but it was all harry could think about. he missed the feeling of you being above him, using him, telling him what to do.
"when i got home, i immediately started jerking off thinking about undressing you, seeing your tits for the first time, smelling your panties, i felt so dirty because you told me i was such a gentleman that night…" harry rambles. something about revealing his perverted obsession with you as you're on his lap makes his erection harden.
he grabs for your thighs, sighing at how heavenly they feel in his hands. "then, i just…wrapped your panties around my dick…and i came on them, almost instantly…" harry reveals, the embarrassment fueling his lust.
you're practically aching for harry listening to his story, watching him become desperate for you once again. he's falling apart in your hands and you just can't get enough of it.
"god, harry, that's so hot…you were so obsessed with me…" you say as you lean into his lips, your bodies entangled on the bed.
harry pulls away, holding your face in his hands gently. "i still am, [y/n]." he says sincerely, admiring your eyes. "so, so obsessed…you have no idea…"
you gaze longingly at him, melting his heart. after a moment you kiss him passionately, savoring his eagerness.
"well…would you like these panties too?" you ask with a smirk, putting his hand on your ass. he looks up at you with begging eyes. "please," he says so softly.
soon you're sat on the edge of the bed, harry pulling down your pants with the fireplace lit behind him. he's looking at you so tenderly, taking in every part of you, constantly reminding you how much he loves you, and how beautiful you are.
you open your legs for him as he kneels in front of you, his eyes fluttering from your face to your panties, which are undoubtedly wet from hearing harry's perverted stories.
his mouth is watering just looking at you.
he gently kisses your thighs, higher and higher until he reaches your panties, taking a moment to look back up at you. you're intently watching him, a blush spreading across your face. you look so pretty from here, a view he's daydreamed about plenty of times.
he buries his face in your smell, moaning, taking you in completely, eyes drooping shut as he feels complete bliss overcome him.
you whimper at his reaction, a hand reaching for his hair as he comes back to earth. he reaches for your panties when he pauses, looking up at you shyly.
"i-i've never done this before." he admits.
you giggle at him lovingly. "i know, harry. it's okay. i haven't either." you reassure him, reaching for his glasses and setting them beside you. he smiles shyly and lays his head on your thigh, letting your hand tangle itself in his hair, memorizing this angle of you.
"just enjoy yourself."
harry blushes at that sentiment. he was enjoying himself no matter what, with you he was always happy, especially in moments like this.
but harry more than enjoyed himself. he had always fantasized what it would be like to eat your pussy, your hand in his hair as you ride his face and cum in his mouth. what he didn't expect was just how intimate it felt with you, the soft whimpers that escaped your mouth, having your legs rest on his shoulders, practically making out with your pussy while you writhe with pleasure beneath his hands.
you were both a bit unsure at first, awkward smiles and laughs and reassuring touches, before harry eventually lost himself in the act. he paid close attention to your reactions, your facial expressions, trying to figure out the best way to pleasure you. he loved feeling you get more and more wet for him by the minute, he couldn't get enough of you.
harry didn't want to stop. cumming once wasn't enough for him. he ignored your begging for him to wait, please, it's too much, holding your hands down with his own as he continued for several more minutes. he had waited so long to finally do this for you, showing you just how badly he wanted you. his dick was aching from how hard it was. this was easily the most turned on he'd been for you so far, watching and hearing you orgasm because of him, on his face, he was convinced there was nothing more enjoyable or desirable than this.
"harry, god damn it…" you sighed. he stayed between your legs in the same position, leaving loving and longing kisses on your thighs and stomach, enjoying the aftershocks your body was having in response to him, looking at you with hunger in his eyes.
"yes?" he asks innocently, still admiring your delicious pussy. "harry, i can barely move…" you whine, your body aching and sore. harry smiles devilishly at your weakness, loving the effect he's come to have on you.
he kisses up your body, leaving a desperate kiss on your lips as you taste yourself on him.
"that was even better than i ever imagined it could be," harry practically growls. you giggle at him, your eyes tired and lips bitten.
you look down at harry and see his throbbing erection through his pants. you look back at him, and offer to return the favor.
"oh, honey, you don't have to, you should rest…" harry insists, stroking your hair out of your face. but you're not backing down, and you at least convince him to let you help him out.
he lays next to you on the bed, shirt and pants off as you start feeling his dick through his briefs. harry's instantly desperate under your touch, realizing just how long he's waited for this moment, no longer having to imagine his own hand as yours.
"[y/n]..." harry moans, his eyes filled with lust as he looks over at you. you. blushing, beautiful, natural you. "i swear i could cum just looking at you."
you giggle at harry again, blushing into his chest as your hand continues to stroke him. you look back up at him innocently, admiring the look of desperation he couldn't hide. reaching for a kiss, harry moans softly into your mouth, his dick twitching in your hand.
"oh god…" harry whines, his head falling back in pleasure. you can tell he's close, just from light touching and barely any kissing. you can't help but giggle at his state, loving the control you have over him.
"go ahead, baby, cum for me," you whisper seductively.
that's all it takes for harry.
trying his best to keep his eyes on you, he comes completely undone under your touch. his breathing becomes completely ragged, breathy whimpers, vaguely trying to say your name the longer you stroked him. similar to how he kept going with you, you didn't back down. he begged you to stop, but you could tell he didn't really want you to stop any time soon. you kiss him to quiet his begging, continuing to overstimulate him until he came for a second time, ruining his briefs for good.
after cleaning yourselves up, harry gives you the longest, warmest, most loving hug you've ever received in your life. you bury your head in his chest, taking in the feeling and smell of his skin. his, now muscular, arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you like harry had nothing left in this world but you.
"i love you, so much, and i'm so thankful for you." harry says, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.
you hug him even tighter. "i love you, harry,"
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by the time next semester starts, you and harry are full-blown boyfriend and girlfriend, constantly holding hands wherever you two go and seeing each other off to your classes or study sessions. people talked amongst themselves about the harry potter having a girlfriend, but you both paid no mind.
being with you has really made harry come out of his shell. by the time spring sports roll around, harry feels confident enough to try out for the university's quidditch team. with your support, of course.
it was never a question that he'd make the team, he instantly became their new seeker and brought the school out of their losing streak. through this, harry also made tons of friends, real friends, who wanted to get to know him outside of being harry potter.
not to mention that you had become his number one fan, showing up to every game and most practices to cheer on your best friend and help him strategize for future games.
in every aspect, harry's life completely changed for the better. he loved his classes, he loved his team, and above all else, he loved you, and felt like he owed everything he had to you.
the only thing that bothered harry anymore was that jerk you dated and introduced him to at the diner, thomas.
thomas hadn't made the quidditch team this season, and he made it very clear that he blamed harry for that. he tried spreading a rumor that harry paid his way in, but people didn't buy it after seeing just how well harry played every game.
but that's not what bothered harry. what bothered him was the way thomas used you to get to him.
everyone knew you and harry were dating. it was the topic of conversation on campus for nearly a week when everyone found out. so why is it that every time thomas talked to you when he saw you alone you had to remind him that no, you can't hang out sometime soon, you have a boyfriend now? to harry it felt personal, and he didn't like it.
it was one of the most important quidditch matches of the season, it determined the university's qualification for finals. harry was on top of his game, especially seeing you cheering for him in the stands, and won the match easily, being celebrated by his team on the field.
after taking a few photos and congratulating the rest of the players, harry eagerly runs to meet you at your usual spot just beside the stands to get his usual post-win kiss.
what he finds instead makes him see red.
thomas. he has you completely backed up to the stands, a clearly heated conversation going on between you two. harry can tell you're pissed just by looking at you, speaking with your hands and trying to walk away but being stopped by thomas each time. finally you push him away, and he grabs you.
that's all harry needs to see before he begins sprinting towards him, his mind racing a million miles an hour and yet completely blank at the same time.
you had managed to push thomas off of you, now yelling at him to get the fuck away from you before you rock his shit.
before you can even try, harry tackles thomas to the ground and begins rocking his shit for you.
you gasped. "harry! stop!" you tell him, not wanting him to get caught and punished. but harry doesn't stop. you've never seen this anger from him. it's like he can't stop, not showing any signs of fatigue or resistance.
"harry! stop!" you yell at him, grabbing him from behind and pulling him away. harry stops punching thomas, only to stand above him and kick him in the stomach. "harry." you warn him, giving him a concerned look. "stop. you'll get expelled." you tell him in a hushed tone.
harry looks at you, softening, coming back to earth as you motion for him to just walk away with you. harry looks down at thomas, a bleeding mess in the dirt, crying in the fetal position.
harry kneels next to thomas, making him flinch. harry points his wand at him and mutters quickly, "episkey."
thomas's nose fixes itself, his cuts heal, and his stomach bruise lightens. he looks at harry incredulously, feeling no physical pain, but in fear of the threat harry posed.
"don't ever fucking touch her again. do you understand? next time i won't be so nice." harry growls. thomas quickly nods his head, desperate to leave. harry stands up, sneering at him still in the dirt. "and don't talk to me either while you're at it." you add at the end, your voice just as intimidating as harry's. "got that?" harry asks sarcastically. thomas nods again, standing up and running away from harry.
as he turns to you, you notice his bloody nose, multiple cuts from the game, and bruised knuckles. "oh, harry," you coo sympathetically, grabbing his hands and examining them. "come on. let's go home."
and by home, you meant to your house. the university had upgraded your room and board in exchange for you to work for them as a professor's assistant in potions. it was a small cottage just outside of campus, one bedroom, one bathroom, but it was enough for you and harry.
walking into your living room, you send harry to the bathroom as you lock the door behind you and drop your stuff off on the dining table. you grab a rag from the kitchen and get it wet with warm water.
you enter the bathroom to see a shirtless harry already attempting to clean a wound on his chest. you can see his reflection in the mirror and are completely infatuated with his focused, bloody face concentrated on his reflection as he tends to his injury.
you come up behind him, barely able to rest your chin on his tall, broad shoulders. his reflection instantly softens, his muscles relaxing.
you turn him around, cleaning the wounds on his chest, arms, and hands. his knuckles were bruised, nothing a spell couldn't fix. "you're lucky you didn't break anything." you remind him.
he watches you so intently. your gentle, caring touch bringing him instant relief. even now, all these months later, you still mesmerize him every day. he's not sure he'll ever get used to having you for himself. but that's just what you were, for himself.
"i wanted to kill him. i would've killed him." harry reminds you, rubbing his knuckles. "sit, please," you ask quietly, pulling him over to the closed toilet. harry sits down, letting out a groan as his entire body aches from quidditch and nearly killing someone.
he looks up at you, his eyes dark and angry again just thinking about it before softening at you. you bring the rag to his face, wiping away blood and dirt from his scars. a tense silence falls between you two. harry can't tell if you're angry at him for what he did. he has no idea why, that thomas kid was dead meat as soon as he decided to touch you.
as you carefully finish cleaning the last of the dirt off harry's face, you notice how tenderly he's watching you. you sigh, holding his face in your hands.
"i'm not mad at you." you say. he swears you can read him like a book.
"but, you could've gotten in serious trouble. or hurt yourself. i just don't want to be the reason you're down." you explain, rubbing a thumb along his cheek.
"i would do anything for you." he reminds you, his hand finding yours.
you smile warmly at him. you can't stay upset with him for very long.
"then do this for me: stay out of trouble."
harry smiles. no promises.
as you're getting ready for bed, harry walks in from his shower in just a pair of shorts. you walk up to him, running your hands along his torso to make sure his scars are sufficiently clean. and to just admire your boyfriend in general.
harry revealed to you some time back his real reason for working out. you found it sweet, but a bit silly, as you could handle yourself perfectly well. however, tonight, harry proved you wrong. though you were never in immediate danger or physical harm, as far as you knew, it still felt really nice to know he had your back when things got scary.
while working out definitely helped his strength, quidditch is what really made his body so exceptional.
he was perfectly toned, incredibly strong, and more buff than he ever had been his entire life. you were never someone to have a thing for muscular guys, but something about watching harry's body get better and better with time just drove you crazy.
"you know," you start off, resting your hands on his chest. you could feel his heart racing. all this time later and he's still such a nervous wreck for you.
"i may not approve of it, but…i can't deny how fucking sexy you looked beating thomas up for me,"
harry could feel his blood boil just from you mentioning that douchebag's name, but he was somewhat distracted by your observation.
"oh, really?" he smirks, grabbing your waist possessively. you instantly have goosebumps, leaning into harry's tight grip. "mhm. i haven't stopped thinking about it…you in your quidditch uniform, your muscles, the anger in your voice…" you practically swoon for him.
harry blushes, but takes advantage of the situation. "i was seeing red." he recalls. "i was seriously going to fucking kill that loser for even thinking he could touch my girl."
you're instantly turned on by his fierce protectiveness. normally you find harry's jealousy funny, since he has no reason to ever worry about you, but tonight it made you see a completely different side of him…
harry was always so soft and careful with you, and was a normally mild-tempered person with everyone. the only time he really got upset was if someone was getting too comfortable with you too quickly. to see him completely lose his cool, to watch him unleash onto this guy who thought he could just grab you…
you were just so, so attracted to him right now.
"yes, your girl, all yours," you reassure him as you lean in for a kiss. he quickly takes control and brings you to your bed, laying you down with haste. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between sloppy kisses.
the lingering anger within harry needs to be released, immediately.
he quickly undresses you, a complete 180 of the old harry who was afraid to help you take off your bra. he practically rips your panties in half trying to get them off of you.
you're already soaking wet from his aggression. he smirks at you. "guess i should get angry more, yeah?" harry teases.
you blush, but you wouldn't exactly be against it.
as harry slowly begins thrusting into you, he feels that familiar bliss overcome him like it does every time he's inside of you.
you and harry have had sex a couple times before, mostly slow and passionate with lots of kissing, enjoying each other's bodies and intimacy.
but this time, harry was hungry for you.
not to say he never is. he might always be hungry for you, quite literally. but this time, he lets the hunger consume him.
harry's thrusts become less careful and more desperate, he leaves dark, aching bites all over your chest, marking what's his. "mine. mine. mine." he reminds you between each bite.
you're in a state of pure ecstasy. you didn't know harry could be so rough with you. his desperation usually came in the form of shy begging, whimpering, and a desire to please. but this kind of desperation was aggressive, jealous, and aimed to please himself. you didn't mind, you thought it was bloody hot. you also wanted to help harry get his anger out, and you were the perfect way to do that.
as his thrusts become more possessive and sloppy, his arms rest on either side of you, the sight above you enough to make your orgasm accelerate. a sweaty, tired, aching harry, desperate to prove something to you, looking at you like you're the first meal he's had in years. his muscles flexing, veins popping out, and his breathing becomes labored.
he can feel you tightening around him and quickened his pace. "harry, harry, i'm cumming," you warn him, whining, desperate for a release.
"that's right, cum for me, baby." he groans in your ear, wrapping his arms around you as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.
watching you fall apart under him is enough to send him over the edge himself. his head is buried in your neck as he breathes heavily, moaning your name in your own ear.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum inside you, baby. can you let me do that?" harry asks you, his sweaty face desperate for your approval. you nod quickly, eager to be his release in anyway you can.
"can you take it? can you be a good girl for me?" harry loves to dirty talk, and this is the hottest it's been yet.
"please, harry, please give it to me, please, please, i need you," you beg harry, grabbing his shoulders, feeling your body prepare for its second orgasm.
"take it, baby, take it, god, you feel so good," he groans into your ear, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you.
your body convulses from the feeling and watching harry melt into you. his face is relieved of all anger, his eyes soft and full of love for you as he leans in to give you a sloppy kiss.
he steps back, watching his cum drip out of you, and could easily get turned on again just by the sight of you right now. but he's too tired, and he knows he has lots of time with you to do it all over again.
after cleaning up and crawling into bed, harry holds you against his chest. you're asleep in no time, steady breaths and slight snores coming from your peaceful expression. harry wraps his arm around you before leaving a kiss on top of your head.
"i love you, [y/n]. goodnight."
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[if you actually read through all of this, i salute you. if you actually enjoyed it, pls let me know. i definitely want to post more like this in the future so i always appreciate any feedback <3 thank you!!! happy new year btw lol]
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crvptidgf · 1 month
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Obsessed
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
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˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘
obsessed husband!mattheo who never likes being away from you for too long, always getting anxious when you have to be apart from eachother
obsessed husband!mattheo who has your location at all times in order to calm his nerves. he likes knowing where you are and being able to come help you if needs be
obsessed husband!mattheo who is always asking if he can come hang out with you and your wife buddies even though you have repeatedly told him it’s a girl’s night only
obsessed husband!mattheo who’s favorite activity is sitting in, watching a movie, with you under him and his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. it feels like you two are the only people in the world and if he could have it that way he would
obsessed husband!mattheo who had to work on his possessive tendencies when you two got married because he was scared you would leave him. you know he means well but sometimes he takes it too far
obsessed husband!mattheo who will sit between your thighs for hours at a time if it means you get to feel good. he won’t get up until he’s sure you’re satisfied
obsessed husband!mattheo who always needs to be touching you or holding onto you. his favorite is your hand because he gets to play with the wedding band on your finger, knowing that you’re only his and he’s yours
obsessed husband!mattheo who will try not to freak out when you don’t text him throughout the day. he would do anything to make sure you’re safe and well
obsessed husband!mattheo who doesn’t care who it is, he’s fighting whoever dares lay a hand on his precious wife. even if it means taking a beating himself - if it’s for you, he’d do whatever it took
obsessed husband!mattheo who is always thinking of you. he buys you little souvenirs and gifts when he goes out or comes home from work. it can be anything from your favorite chocolates to a lingerie set that he thought you would look good in (but to him you look good in everything)
obsessed husband!mattheo who has already planned renewing your vows one day, hopefully with a mini you as the flower girl/boy
obsessed husband!mattheo who can’t wait to see you carrying your baby. he already knows what the nursery will look like, it’s only a matter of planning the when
obsessed husband!mattheo who finally feels at peace when your healthy child is born. he now knows peace, and knows that you will never leave him now that you have started your family together
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akanothere · 4 months
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Fanart for Peremo chapter 27 by @virennias
PLEASE READ I CAN’T TELL HOW OBSESSED I AM WITH THIS FIC THIS TOM IS ONE OF THE WORST (EVIL) TOMS EVER EXISTED AHHHHHHHHHH😩😩😩😩😩❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
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leclercstarrs · 5 months
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the slytherin boys confessing to you on new year’s eve
➤ blaise zabini
he waits for the right moment during the party in the slytherin common room. when the clock strikes midnight and the two of you are facing each other, not even taking notice of everyone around you celebrating a new year, he looks down at you and cups your face, pausing for a moment to admire you before kissing you.
➤ draco malfoy
he carries you to your dorm room when the party’s over and you’re barely able to walk straight after all the drinking, helping you get into bed and covering you with the blanket, brushing your hair out of your face and placing a trash can next to your bed. draco sits on the side of your bed, placing a comforting hand on your leg. when he thinks you’re asleep, he confesses to you, unaware that you’re awake and can hear him.
➤ lorenzo berkshire
when the crowd in the common room gets overwhelming and the loud music seems to be getting louder every second, lorenzo sneaks you away to his favourite spot in hogwarts, the astronomy tower. the weasley twins have fireworks going off to celebrate and the two of you just sit there and watch as the night sky lights up with different colours. he turns to look at you and you can feel him staring, so you do the same and shift your body so you’re looking at each other. “i’ve liked you since first year. i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but considering it’s a new year, i just needed to tell you. you mean so much to me.” he whispers.
➤ mattheo riddle
he can feel the jealousy radiating off of him as he’s sitting on one of the leather couches in the common room, watching you and harry potter join the rest of the crowd in dancing. your eyes shift to glance at mattheo behind harry’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he basically death stares at the brunette you’re swaying your hips against. when mattheo looks away, you do the same and bring your attention back to him, not expecting it when the angry slytherin walks up to you and harry. “matty? what—” before you can even finish your sentence, he punches harry right in the jaw and starts a fight with the gryffindor boy. later on, the two of you are in mattheo’s dorm as you clean his hands and the mark on his face from the one hit the other boy was actually able to get in. the party is still going on and although you’re pissed at him for ruining your night, he can’t help but tell you exactly why he started the fight and how much he wants you as you wipe some blood off of his bleeding knuckles.
➤ theo nott
theo takes a, slightly, calmer approach to his confession. when he sees you, his best friend, dancing with fred weasley, his immediate response is to shut down and distance himself from you for the rest of the night. he drowns his sorrows in cheap alcohol the twins managed to score for the party. eventually, when you realize you haven’t seen him in a bit, you part ways with fred to go find him. when you find him, he’s drinking alone on one of the leather couches in the middle of the room. confronting him, determined to figure out why he’s acting so weird, he drunkenly confesses.
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alwaysthegeorges · 1 year
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No Going Back - George Weasley x Reader
Summary - During the Yule Ball, you and George accidentally brew a sex pollen potion instead of amortentia.
Warnings - fluff, pining, and last but not least, smut (characters are aged up to be 18 in their last year of school). No use of Y/N. 
Word Count - 4.4k (edited) (i’m not sorry)
a/n - i <3 george weasley. i also mean no snape slander, just making comments more realistic for the pov :)
!gif not mine!
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“Whatcha doin’?” you asked as you walked into the almost-empty classroom.
George lifted his head from the boiling cauldron he was watching over when you entered, eager to share what he had created. 
“Well, my dear, Fred has instructed me to try and brew Amortentia so he can try and woo Angelica. He didn’t know how to do it, so I thought I’d step up and give it a try. I was the one that took the notes during Snape’s lecture, anyway,” he explained, winking at you playfully after the last part.
The boys were notorious for not paying attention in class, but George had recently begun to share your preference for potions class. After the night in the common room you shared, filled with fun stories and passionate rants about how useful a knowledge of potions could be, he seemed to become more interested in Snape’s lectures. George even made note to ask you to get together to share notes between quizzes and tests. You were glad that he was becoming more interested in school, but couldn’t stop wondering why he seemed so excited about a topic only after you had went on about your own love for it. Of course, you weren’t complaining, especially because now he seems to want to spend more time with you alone, and you’ve had a crush on him since the two of you were seated next to each other in 5th year charms.
“Is that so? Does Fred not seem to think he can woo her on his own?”
“Apparently not. He’s been trying too hard and thinks he’s overdone it. He’s asked her to the Yule Ball like 3 times already,” George says, chuckling over his brother’s endeavors.
“Yikes. He clearly didn’t inherit the charms of the family then,” you joked, nudging George’s arm with your elbow. He leaned forward towards your stature, smirking with intrigue at your comment.
“And who do you rather think inherited those genes?” he asked you playfully, his prideful smirk remaining on his beautiful, freckled face.
“Ah, well, I’d have to say Harry, being as your mother counts him as part of the family, and he seems to have more charm with the ladies than any of you!” you declared, smiling widely.
George tilts his head back, clutching his chest in faux agony.
“Oh how you wound me, dearest.”
The two of you share a charged moment of giggling before the moment got cut short with a terrible sound coming from the cauldron.
“Merlin, I forgot to keep stirring it!” George exclaimed, rushing over to the side of the cauldron once again.
Just as he reached the bubbling, smoking mixture, a popping sound and a wall of purple smoke filled the room in less than a second. Once the dust settled, you looked over at George only to fall into a fit of laughter at his appearance. The tall, muscular ginger was covered head-to-toe in a purple dust, which left not a part of his body uncovered. The tall man wiped his eyes, if only to playfully scowl at you laughing at him. Of course, he found your giggles so contagious, he couldn’t help but fall into a fit of them himself.
Once the laughter died down, you and George began walking back to his common room to clean up.
“Guess I’m going to need some help with that potion, too,” he chuckled.
⏃⏂⏃
The time was getting late, or so it felt like. Everyone else had left your common room, but George remained determined to finish the unit the two of you were working on. Snape had made a paper due in two days from when it was assigned, like the evil bastard he is, and you knew George was stressing. He was never very good at writing papers. Like the good friend you are, you had offered to help him, especially with his wording. He had gladly accepted, appreciating your help. Then, not only would the two of you get to spend time together, but you could help him become a better student, which was always a nice goal.
After the third question he answered was revealed to be wrong, George groaned and laid his head back on the common room couch seat, covering his face with his hands. You propped your arm up on the seat as well and turned your body to face George, trying not to let that beautiful groan go to places it shouldn’t. You were just friends, after all. 
“It’s alright George, I’m sure you know it. You just need a little break,” you comforted, laying a hand on his shoulder gently.
George released his hands from his face, allowing them to slide to his sides once more, and turned his head to face you. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush donning his cheeks as his eyes flicked ever so slightly towards your hand, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had appeared. His beautiful brown eyes glistened in the light coming from the fireplace, and a heat began to rush to your own cheeks. You wanted to blame that on the fireplace as well.
“Perhaps. Maybe we should put on some music. A little dance party never hurt anyone,” he suggested, a shit-eating grin beginning to take over his face.
With a nod of agreement from you, George popped up and put on a record. You groaned as you heard the first few notes of O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds begin to play. Of course the man would put on a song he knew you couldn’t resist dancing to. He flounced over to where you were seated on the floor and reached out his hand, a glimmer of mischief lingering in his eyes. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet so quickly it felt like you were flying for a second, so much so that you lost your balance and fell a bit forward into George’s arms. You were able to quickly gain your composure, giggling it off and turning your head away so he couldn’t see the redness that had climbed onto your cheeks. All George did was chuckle at you, and he began leading you with the hand he still held to the main area of the common room. The man used your hand to turn you around and begin the dancing he had suggested, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you turned and swayed to the rhythm until you naturally fell into a close position, chests only inches apart, hands clasped together. It felt as if you were at last year’s Yule Ball, only this was much better, since you didn’t have a nervous Seamus stepping on your toes. You swayed to the music in perfect harmony, easily falling into an unspoken rhythm that always followed the two of you. George must’ve been thinking the same thing you were, because after a few more seconds of only the music filling the room, he spoke in a hushed tone.
“This is nice. I like dancing with you,” he smiled.
“I like dancing with you too, George. You’re surprisingly good at it.” George rolled his eyes playfully.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I practiced to impress my date last year. Seems I was the only one out of the two of us,” he chucked, eyes gleaming with the memory. “She stepped on me so many times, I think I have permanent markings on my shoes.”
You giggled, sharing his pain.
“Poor little George,” you teased.
“Oh hush, you,” he fired, wrinkling his nose in the way that made your heart flutter.
After another quiet moment, he seemed to hesitate at saying something else. You piped up and bugged him to say what was on his mind, eager to hear what he had to say.
“I don’t know if it would be weird, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me this year? It would save us from having to scramble to find decent dates. And hey, if it’s anything like tonight, I think my shoes will be intact by the end of the night,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the question, but his arms had seemed to tense up a bit.
You smiled up at him, trying your best to not let him feel your nerves.
“Of course I’d like to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I heard they were even trying to get Nick Cave come perform this year!”
George sighed and continued your conversation as the two of you continued to sway to the music, but you could’ve sworn his body relaxed with that breath of air. You tried to shake the thought off, because why would he be nervous about asking you to go to the dance? You were sure your crush was merely one-sided. Thinking he had any other feelings towards you would only lead to your own heartbreak, so you pushed the thoughts down and simply tried to enjoy this moment.
⏃⏂⏃
As the ball continued on, you and George couldn’t help but get restless. The music this year was terrible compared to last year, and somehow they managed to mess up the catering, so the pumpkin juice was watery at best. As the night droned on, you couldn’t help but want to get out of there. You knew it wasn’t proper, since it was the middle of the party, but you could tell most people were not having a good time by the amount of people secluding to their tables. 
George and you had danced a bit in the beginning, but the two of you agreed that it began to suck so bad it wasn’t even worth trying to jam to. Instead, you had found your way to your table with his brothers, and laughed the night away. The Weasleys never failed to make a boring event a good time. That is, until Fred began pestering George about the Amortentia. George tried to wave him off, but once Fred left, he seemed genuinely bothered by the fact he wasn’t able to brew it. As you thought more about what went wrong, it felt as if the idea just fell right into your lap.
“George, I know what went wrong. We can fix the potion for Fred!” you shared excitedly, placing your hand on his freckled arm. He turned to you, face lighting up.
“Really? We can do it right?” he asked excitedly.
“I think so! C’mon, then!” you exclaimed, standing from your chair.
“What? Now?”
“Yes, now! Would you rather stay here and watch Neville try to dance with your sister again? Because I assure you, they are the only ones having fun at the moment.”
George laughed, grabbing your hand.
“Let’s go, then,” he said, shit-eating grin returning to his beautiful features. 
⏃⏂⏃
George basically dragged you back to his dorm. Strangely, this was never how you pictured this happening. Yet, here you were. Honestly, his setup as a prefect was not too shabby at all. An entire room and bathroom to himself, a nice desk he could lay out papers and his cauldron on, a whole story above the main dorms? He was pretty much living the dream up there. 
The man eagerly began taking his notes from different books, all scattered along his desk. Though the man had his own space for once, you knew he still wouldn’t clean up after himself. Guys.
After about an hour that had only felt like mere minutes, the two of you had almost completely finished the potion. After decent care and proper mixing, there was only one step left to complete the most powerful love potion ever made.
“Alright then, the recipe says that you must add three drops of unicorn tears, exactly. No more, no less,” you explain.
“What happens if more is added? I don’t have the most reliable dropper,” George questions fretfully.
“Beats me. I’ve never seen it done in real life before. Just, be careful, I guess.”
George looks back at you, a worried look in his eyes as he turns to the cauldron.
“Now or never, I guess. Here we go... there’s one, two...”
Before George could finish his sentence, a cloud of dark red smoke erupts from the cauldron and fills the room. The two of you look to each other in horror, equally knowing that is not how the potion should act. 
“What did you do?” you questioned frantically.
“I don’t know! I guess the dropper malfunctioned and did two fast drops instead of only one! What’s it going to do?”
“I don’t know, don’t ask me! Do you think it’s going to explode again?”
The two of you look to the cauldron, which remained calm as ever. The smoke even began to settle. You sighed with a bit of relief.
“I don’t think so,” George answered. “Last time it did that because of the bubbles. It seems to be settling all by itself.”
Just as the you began to relax, thinking nothing was to come out of fucking up the potion, you noticed the smoke beginning to seep into George’s skin. You looked down at your legs to see it was doing the same to you. George didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t feel like it was doing anything to your body, so the two of you decided to call it a night. 
You were in the process of going back to your dorm when all of a sudden, a burning desire settled into your lower abdomen. A sensation that you’ve never felt before began building and building, taking over your entire body by the second. Your body began feeling hot all over, and an all too familiar wetness began to pool in your panties. You rushed back to your dorm, and thankfully none of the other girls were back from the dance yet. You thought maybe satisfying yourself would make the world-burning desire subside, but even long after you finished and attempted to go to sleep, the feeling of needing more lingered in you. You tossed and turned, but no amount of sleepiness could satisfy your growing need. Giving in, you swiftly got out of bed and stormed over to George’s dorms, wondering if he was having the same affects as you.
Right as you were about to knock on his door, it swung open to the tall, flushed man glistening with sweat. George’s face was almost as red as his hair, but even in this condition, he was as beautiful as ever. The moment you saw him, the burning between your legs heightened. You tried to suppress your squirming.
“Hey,” George panted. “I was just coming to find you.”
He rushed you inside his room and locked the door quickly as you entered.
“What the fuck is going on?” you ask frantically, still trying to keep your movements under control, even when the itch to go up to George and kiss him was growing by the minute.
“I don’t know, one minute I’m fine, the next my skin feels like it’s on fire!”
“I know! What are we supposed to do?!”
“I don’t know that, either,” George gasped, throwing a hand into his sweaty but yet still perfectly curled hair. “We don’t know how long it takes to wear off. There’s no research in the school for this shit. I mean, I guess we can try doing it ourselves, but-”
“Doesn’t work,” you mutter, casting your eyes upon the ground. You desperately tried to hold yourself together as the dirty thoughts in your head became louder. “I tried.”
“You tri- oh. Okay, yeah. Wonderful,” he flushed more, if a such thing was even possible to do in his condition.
There was a nervousness to his voice, one that didn’t sound like it was stemming from the stress of the situation. The nerves felt like- like he was trying to hold desperately onto something he had been trying to keep for a while.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“I mean, I could be better. This isn’t the best situation to be in right now, especially with you.”
“Especially with me? What’s that got to mean?”
“Ugh, I just.. I don’t know, okay? I’m stressed out enough, I didn’t need this- predicament. I’m already dealing with enough feelings.”
Thanks George, how vague.
“I mean, you can always go fix it. I know you’ve got a crush on Angelina, but you don’t want Fred to find out. You were being weird around her all evening. I can tell she feels the same, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you so badly want this to be fixed, I’m sure she would be happy to help you out,” you explain, even though your heart feels like it’s tearing into two by telling him. 
You had seen the way Angelina had been looking at him all night. It made you sick, but you knew he was stressed about school, so if that push is what he needed to help him out, so be it. Who were you to keep him from his crush.
“Angelina? No! Even though Fred has a crush on her, I wouldn’t go for her anyway. I don’t like her like that. She’s not the one I would rather fix this with!” George exclaims, exasperated.
A pause. What? Who did he want to fix it with?
“Then who? Tell me whoever you’d like and I can try to track them down. I don’t want you stuck like this when you’ve got so much going on already.”
George shoves his hands in his hair again, letting out an exasperated and strained sigh. He plops on the side of his bed, that strong body of his looking weaker as he defeatedly sits there.
“You really don’t get it do you? Or do you enjoy seeing me in pain?”
Confused, your eyes flick to where they really shouldn’t have. There, sitting very uncomfortably in the leg of his loose basketball shorts, was a very large problem. The sight just about made your knees give out, and you stumbled back a bit to lean on the corner of George’s desk. Your mind flicked back to what he had said a moment ago. You really don’t get it.
“What do I not get?”
Another sigh.
“Have I not made it glaringly obvious? I try to study with you as much as I can, alone. I always make sure I play the songs that help your brain relax when you’re stressed. I make sure I sit on the right of you during classes so you can see the board. I asked you to the bloody Yule Ball. Can’t you see? I like you, okay? I always have,” George lets out like a wave of emotion. His hands fly up to cover his eyes, as if they were strained from stress or lack of sleep.
The fluttering in your chest begins again, but not the kind caused by the potion. George likes you? He likes you back? You heart begins beating so fast its sound fills your ears. A rush of emotions fill you. Happiness, clarity, regret of not seeing it sooner. You had pushed down the idea that he liked you for so long that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you! Now’s the time to make up for it, you guessed.
You walked slowly over to where George sat and faced him. Carefully, as if you were handling the most precious pottery, you moved your hands to remove his from his eyes. George looked up at you with his glimmering eyes full of questions, all of which you answered by leaning down and kissing him.
The moment your lips met, it’s as if time stopped. The most colorful fireworks seemed to flood your mind, because finally, you were kissing George, and he was kissing you back. He kissed you like he had been waiting for years, like you were his air and the two of you were underwater. His hands moved to cup your cheek and press along your back, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. The burning sensation along your entire body intensified, as if this is what the feeling was waiting for. George must’ve felt it too, because he let a groan seep into your kiss. Your legs almost gave out at the sound, and as quick as lightning, George flipped you so you were lying on the bed with him on top of you. Pausing to take a breath, George’s eyes flicked from your lips back to your eyes.
“You won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted, eyes gleaming in the light from the fireplace.
“Me too,” you whispered, taking a moment to trace his features with the tip of your finger. His freckles, his strong nose, breathtaking smile. Your hand settled on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down like he was the most precious thing you had ever held. Honestly, he was.
George leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. You could feel all his emotion pouring into the kiss, almost gasping from the intensity you felt. You let him take his time with you, mapping out your every feature with his lips, planting loving kisses all over. It was more than pleasant to say the least, having someone you had loved in secret for years finally loving you right back. You could’ve stayed like that for hours, if it weren’t for the increasing pressure and sensation in your abdomen. You were sure George felt the heat rising as well, because with a glance, he began kissing down your neck, paying special attention to the spot that made you squirm underneath him. Before you knew it, he was kissing down your clothed chest. His eyes flicked to yours, as if asking a question, and you nodded, moving to remove your shirt.
Once it was across the room, George reached behind and unclasped your bra with such skill it seemed like he had practiced just for this moment. The rush made your heart pump fast with excitement and anticipation, but what it pumped with the most was love for this man. You could tell how much he cared from every glance up to your face, always with the question of consent. You happily gave it to him every time, knowing there was no one else in the world you’d rather share this moment with.
Once your top was fully unclothed, George’s mouth began trailing all over your body, taking special time to grasp each nipple between his teeth. With each flick of his tongue, you could feel the burning sensation growing, so you grasped onto George’s shoulder as if to warn him. The potion must’ve been giving him the treatment it had given to you, because he seemed to understand each of your movements perfectly. That, or he already knew you the meaning behind your movements because he had always paid such close attention to your body language. After gaining consent, George happily ripped the rest of your clothes off in seconds, and George’s fingers trailed down to the spot with the most intense burning. The spot you had been waiting for. After getting the okay from you and wetting his fingers, he slowly pushed two into you, curling them perfectly to hit the spot that made your body go haywire. George watched as your back rose off the mattress, as your beautiful eyes rolled back into your head with every curve of his fingertips. It was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. After using his other hand to press on your lower stomach gently in order to intensify the feeling, he dipped his head bow and his tongue went to work on your throbbing clit. The pleasure this man gave you was so intense and incredible he had you in tears in seconds, working you up to one of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Every muscle in your body was on fire, the perfect man giving you pleasure combined with the power from the potion sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your body seemed to set fire as the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasure hit you like a wave all at once. George took a moment to take in your movements, in awe of everything you did. Without wasting any more time, George crawled back up to you and kissed you, wrapping the arm he used to prop himself up with around your arm to cradle you. You felt elated, wanting nothing more than to have more of this man. He brought his head back to look at you and slowly raised one of your legs to wrap around his torso, all without breaking eye contact. With a nod and a slow, sensual kiss, George slowly pushed into you, supporting your head with his arm as you threw it back in pleasure. The feeling of his rock hard length pushing in and out of you at an insanely slow pace was driving you insane, the burning sensation making it feel like your world had just set fire. 
“Faster,” you begged, grasping a hand on one of George’s large, muscular shoulders. 
He did as you commanded, speeding up his movements. He set an above average pace, both of you on the verge of snapping from the mix of heat and pleasure the potion was providing, and his freckled features turned into such a beautifully nasty expression that it should be either framed or illegal. George looked too good all riled up and sweaty, you admitted to yourself.
Before you knew it, the two of you were reaching your brink. George picked up the pace, pounding you into the mattress so hard you were surprised it hadn’t given out under you. He reached his free hand down to toy with your clit more, hoping to speed up and intensify the impending feeling about to wash over you. Together, the two of you released all the tension that had been building up since you began loving each other, and it all washed over you in such an intense and intimate wave. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, because you had it all. The beautiful man that laid on top of you, feeling completely worn out and boneless, was everything you knew he was, and even maybe a bit more. He was as perfect as a man could be, and the best part is that he adored you somehow even more than you adored him. The love and care you had for each other matched no other. You knew after this there was no going back, but you were okay with that, because you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
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lionizingheathen · 2 years
Text
Agreement - R.L.
Flatmate!Remus Lupin x fem!reader
Giving your flatmate, Remus Lupin a blowjob to help him relax
Warnings: Smut, Oral sex male recieving, face fucking, pet names, cum swallowing
"Y/N." Remus asked from your doorway, and you raised an eyebrow. What was he doing in your room? He didn't often just come in, normally he was invited.
"Yeah, what's up?" You glanced over at him, brows furrowing. He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked sallow... he hadn't been taking care of himself and he probably had forgotten to take his potion. Which he needed to do. Soon. "You look like hell, did you take your potion?" You asked, and he shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He needed to, you knew that.
"Not yet, no." He glanced around your room, as if he was worried that someone was going to be in there, listening to your conversation. "Are you willing to do something for me?" He asked, and you nodded, putting your bookmark into your book.
"Uh... Sure, what's up?" You asked, setting your book down as you sat more attentively. He was quiet, chewing on his lip thoughtfully, as if he was trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted to ask.
"Give me a blowjob." He said, and you nearly dropped your book as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didn't betray your shock at him saying that. You'd happily do that... Remus seemed like he'd be fun in bed.
"Okay... I really thought you were going to say like 'go to the store and buy me eggs' or something along that line..." You said, and he shrugged.
"I think it would help the aggression." God...
"Are you feeling agressive?" You asked and he scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. Fair, that was self explanatory and you knew it.
"Of course I am. You know I am." Remus snapped, and you rolled your eyes. Werewolves. So dramatic... probably. Remus was the only one that you'd met.
"Normally you just... handle it, I don't know." You said flippently, and he was quiet.
"How did you know that?" He asked, and you chewed on your lip. Caught.
"The walls are thin, Remus. I know a lot of what you get up to." You murmured, giving him a half smile. He grimaced, picking at the ends of his sleeves as he spoke, clearly not appreciating how easily you had said that to him.
"That's incredibly disconcerning, I don't like that at all." He mumbled, and you shrugged, kicking your feet up on your desk once again. Clearly this would probably just end in a conversation, nothing more, so there was no need to be sitting at attention.
"Move out, then. Get a more expensive apartment." You sighed, and he was silent for a moment, leaning against your wall, fiddling with his fingers.
"Are you listening to me on purpose?" He asked, and you felt your face get hot. Yes. But only sometimes, only when you needed to get off... only when you wanted to fantasize.
"No."
"You're lying." He said, and you shook your head. Yeah, you were lying but he didn;'t need to know that.
"I'm not lying, I have never intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking, Remus." You said, and he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stretch up, the hem of his sweater coming up as he did.
"I have." He sighed, and your head snapped away from the strip of skin and back to his face. What?
"Hm?" You asked, and he shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he kicked his foot at the ground.
"Intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking... or while you're being fucked." He said, and you felt like you were going to fall out of your chair. What the fuck?
"Why?" He asked, and he shrugged, taking a step closer to you as he spoke. God, this energy looked fucking good on him.
"Becuase I know I could do it better than any of them. I'd have you trembling and screaming within moments and they can't even last long enough to make you cum. You've got horrible taste in guys." He said, and you rolled your eyes. Most of them were scared off by Remus, it wasn't as if you had a long line of suitors.
"Shut up." He flicked his eyebrow up at you.
"Come suck my cock and I will." He said, and you tried to ignore the pang between your thighs. This was all about making him feel better.
"Demanding."
"Tie your hair up and get the fuck over here." He said, and you did just that, standing up to walk over to him.
"Sit on the edge of my bed." You sighed, and he nodded, sitting down with his hands splayed behind him, a small smirk on his face. The way that the deep scar on his cheek distorted it slightly... God.
"Okay..." He said and you walked over, falling to your knees beside him. You didn't miss the way that he inhaled sharply at that, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. You unbuttoned his pants, tapping his hip lightly so he would lift his hips. You dragged his pants down his thighs, his boxers quickly following, making his cock spring up against his stomach. It was thick and long, intimidating. You brought a hand up to wrap around it, unable to meet your fingers on either side. He was bigger than moast people you'd been with... and he probably knew how to use it.
"Holy fuck." You murmured, brushing your thumb over the tip, making him jump as he hissed out a breath. So sensitive.
"What? What's wrong?" He asked, and you smiled up at him, jerking your hand up and down his cock, making him let out a low and throaty groan.
"Nothing... You're just really big." You said, and you kissed up the side of his cock, flicking your tongue over the veins. "And your cock is really pretty." You murmured, and he let out a nervous sort of chuckle, clearly trying to keep from thrusting into your face.
"I don't know if I agree with that..." His voice jumped up as you brought the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking over the slit, tasting the precum that was leaking from it. It made your cunt throb.
"You taste good." You murmured, pulling back for a moment to lick up the side before sucking on the tip again, enjoying his movements, the way he was quickly becoming desperate. There was a reason people finished so fast when they were with you.
"Please get on with it." He groaned, and you opened your mouth wider, taking him further into your mouth, choking when he hit the back of your throat. He pulled away from you. "You don't have to take it all, I understand-." You shook your head, looking up at him with a wide smile.
"I want you to fuck my throat until it's raw, Remus. Stop being polite when you were just being demanding." You said, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.
"... Okay." You swallowed him down quickly, forcing yourself to take him all the way down your throat, making him let out a loud shout of your name. Your neighbors were gonna hate this... not that you cared. "Merlin's... fuck... your mouth is so warm..." He moaned, and you bobbed your head up and down, trying to take more of him. You wanted all of him down your throat.
"Mmmph." You groaned, and he pressed his hand into your hair, lifting his hips to fuck into your throat, making him hiss.
"Tight... your throat is so tight." He sighed. "Holy shit, you look even prettier than I could've imagined." You blushed, but pulled back. He was being too gentle, too sweet... he needed release, he didn't need sweet.
"Fuck, Remus. I'm doing this so you can take out your aggression. So use me." You instructed, and you watched as he shivered, throwing his head back for a moment. He was beautiful, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, his stomach rising and falling quickly, knuckles white as he gripped your comforter. He looked nearly feral when he glanced back down at you, shaking his head.
"You can't talk like that." He said, and you shrugged, smirking at him as you leaned back in, flicking your tongue out across his tip.
"Then shut me up, or I'll continue." He pulled you back down, letting out a laugh that almost came off as bitter.
"You're so fucking cocky." He fucked your face faster, making you choke around him. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you thought of him taking you like this, fucking your cunt until it was ruined for anyone else. "It'd be annoying if you weren't fit." He grunted, and your eyes rolled back as he forced himself deeper. You breathed out of your nose, wanting to let him use your throat for as long as you could.
"You were made for this. Made to be my cocksleeve, weren't you?" He groaned, and you blushed. You would've nodded had he not chosen to increase his pace. Fuck.
"Mhm."
"I bet your cunt is even better... I'll be taking that soon as well. Maybe I should just do this every time I get angry... come in here and fuck you until I'm relaxed, would you like that?" He pulled you up by your hair, glaring down at you as you gasped for air. "I asked you a fucking question." He said, and you nodded. God, that sounded good.
"Yes... Open door policy." You coughed, and he nodded, giving you a large grin as he tugged your hair, making you swallow his cock once again
"Good girl. That's what I was thinking." He murmured. He held your head down, making your eyes water as your nose pressed agianst his pelvis. You dug your nails into his thighs, choking around him as he let you go, let you get a breath in before he began again, fucking your throat in earnest. God, this was hot.
"Fuck, you're so good at this baby, so good..." You brought your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit, whimpering at how swollen it was. God, you wanted to cum. Above you, Remus growled, yanking hard on your hair. "Don't touch yourself, I want you to be horny for me... in case I need more. Gotta have you ready." He groaned, and you pulled your hand away, whimpering at the loss as you chose instead to scratch at his legs, making him let out a high moan. Fuck, he sounded so pretty.
"I'm getting close baby. So close." He groaned, chewing on his lips as he continued fucking your throat, his pace getting sloppy. This was perfect... Remus Lupin using your throat, you could cross something off your bucket list.
"I'm cumming..." He held your hair, making sure you wouldn't pull off... not that you were planning on it. "Fuck... Y/N! Swallow it... Take it all, baby." He gasped as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him frantically, moaning at the taste... God, everything about him was utterly intoxicating. You sat back on your kness, giving him a wide smile before you let yourself drop onto his lap.
"Jesus, that was..." You sighed, shaking your head.
"Was it too much?" He asked, and you shook your head, easing him back onto the bed.
"Remus, that was the hottest thing I've ever experienced." You promised, him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as you settled down beside him.
"Really?" He asked, and you nodded, lunging forward to press a kiss to his lips. He looked shocked when you pulled back, and for a moment you were worried that you'd misread the situation, before he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. You moaned into his mouth, grinding your slick cunt onto his skin blindly, needing any friction you could get... God, you needed to feel him inside you.
"Yeah." You rolled on top of him, straddling his waist. "I need you to fuck me." You said, and he let out a long sigh, chuckling at the end of it as he shook his head, resting his hands on your hips.
"I need to recover for a moment... Can't... I need to rest. But we will. I promise." He said, and you nodded, looking away from him as you slid to the side, feeling embarrassed as you sat on the edge of the bed.
"Right, sorry." You said, and a moment later you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back down beside him.
"S'okay." You laid like that for a moment, silent, existing in each other's space. "You know? We actually do need some eggs and some bread... milk too..." He mumbled into your hair, and you chuckled.
"I'll go get them." You sighed, and he let out a groan as you stood up, taking yourself out of his arms. You watched as he burrowed into the blankets, giving you an almost-glare.
"Hurry back. I'll be waiting." He mumbled, and you paused for a moment. He was going to fuck you when you were back... there were steps that should be taken.
"Should I get condoms too?" You asked, and he shook his head, giving you a large, lazy grin as he rolled over, laying on his stomach. He looked good, tangled up in your sheets.
"Oh, we're not using them, just take a potion..." He paused for a moment, looking worried. "Is that okay?" His question was soft and gentle, a far cry from the first one he'd asked this evening. You gave him a smile as you shrugged on your sweater and nodded. There was nothing more okay than that.
"Fuck yes. I'll be back." You said, shutting the door behind you with a large grin growing on your face, replacing the tentative one from moments earlier.
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The Portrait of Regulus Black
How his features change over time and what it meant for the people around him. / How Molly and Sirius finally come to an understanding in front of a dead boy's portrait.
Regulus clearly grows up to be beautiful. But as a kid, all the sharp features the cousins shared didn't sit quite right on his small baby face. So Regulus, until puberty, looked weird. He wasn't ugly but he looked like a cut and paste collage of aristocratic features that made him come off as an uncanny valley child. People look at him and register the features that should all but make a most precious kid. But it never feels quite right. People, instead, are unnerved by the hallmarks of beauty waiting to settle down on a too small face.
Narcissa was exactly the same as a child.
Regulus starts getting looks from girls and the occasional boy at 13. By 15 people know who Regulus Black is, he's asked out often and sent letters in distressing frequency (not that his friends don't have a good time reading them all and eating the treats that come with it). James looks at him like he's trying to figure him out, Regulus doesn't care. James asks him if he's going to this week's meeting for Slug Club and if he'll be staying for tea after — Regulus walks right past him.
James starts looking at the people coming up to Regulus like they offend him and it's Barty who calls him out on it.
"Oi, Potter! Are you jealous Reg's getting all the attention or do you want to line up yourself?"
Regulus merely rolls his eyes at his friend, always looking for a reason to piss off his brother's mates. Meanwhile, a rabbid James is held back by Frank.
Eventually, James tells him that Regulus had always been pretty to him. That he was 12 and Regulus was 11. And all James could think about, was how not to embarrass himself so he could impress Sirius' doll of a little brother. Now, everyone wants a piece of Regulus, James sourly points out. He was there first.
He gets a kiss on the cheek for the sulking and James chases after the lips that dare to call his woes, cute.
By 17, the Dark Lord takes notice. By 17, Rabastan starts approaching him... To take him under his wing, he says. By 17 Greyback starts staring. Tells Regulus that boys like him should be careful not to end up alone.
By 18, a portrait of Regulus Black sits on the wall of 12 Grimmauld Place — immortalizing his beauty and youth.
At 35 Sirius looks up at his brother, his portrait asking him, hopefully, if he'll finally be staying home for the holidays, perpetually stuck some time in the past where he and Sirius still came home together but went to Hogwarts separately. He looks at his brother, or what remains of his existence, and says yes, he'll be spending the rest of it with Regulus.
The Order, ever curious of the dark, once mighty, Black family (though ashamed to ever outwardly admit it) will occasionally look up at the portrait of the dead heir — final whereabouts, unknown... Body, still yet to be found. His death, a debate of his detraction or failure. Ever unresponsive, wary, and snobbish except when Sirius is the one asking him about his day, only then will the painting answer.
The painting haunts the people who come over with business to discuss among other members. The young boy's features speak of unfinished growth creeping towards adulthood. Maturity never achieved.
Molly, in a rare moment of peace with Sirius, sits with the once heir as she finds him looking up at the portrait, late at night, lost to memories in his childhood home.
"Do you miss him?"
"People expect me to say no, you know? Youngest Death Eater, and people say he was quite eager to join up, my fool of a brother."
"That's not what I asked. I miss my brothers and nothing could ever take that away from me. They were my brothers. Sometimes, my grief is all I have left of them."
Sirius sighs, "And he was my brother. I wish I could've seen him grow up. I'm 35 and he's 18. It haunts me, Molly."
There's nothing much else to say after that.
"He's beautiful," she says, looking up at the painting, at the imitation of a young man looking at them with apprehension, no — looking at her with apprehension and looking at his brother with mild confusion. As if to say, 'who is she Sirius and why is she here?'
"I remember him, quite a few years below me. Walking like a prince through the halls of Hogwarts. Haunting its walls, with James behind his heels."
"They thought no one ever noticed," Sirius says.
"You did."
"I'm his brother and James was my best friend. He never talked about Regulus, he kept him like a secret." Sirius recounts with an odd tone to his voice.
"I watched. Waiting for James to act in shame, I was waiting for a reason to start a fight. Regulus and I weren't talking but I wasn't ashamed to be his brother. If James was ashamed, I would've stepped in between them and put an end to it."
Molly waits, realizing she's seeing Sirius anew for the first time. She and Sirius never got along well and a good part of it was because she thought he was rash. Impulsive and blindly inconsiderate of others. She never liked that he kept looking for James in Harry. Wanting to relive the past. But sitting with him like this, hearing how much he knows when people don't expect much of him at all, the way he speaks of his brother — it's sobering.
"I figured out the reason for James' silence. Why there was never a hint or mention of whatever fleeting relationship he had with my brother. It wasn't shame, it was selfishness. Greed. He loved Lily, fully! No one could ever say he didn't. Knowing what I knew didn't change that. But Regulus was his to keep. And he kept him all to himself.
I do the same thing with Harry. I talk about James. I share James with him because James was never mine the way Regulus was mine. All my best memories with Prongs I tell him and I watch his eyes light up — hungry for more of the father he never met. Lily too, of course. But Regulus? I—" Sirius pauses. He tries to say more but can't. Regulus was his brother.
"It's so hard."
"Bill asks me about them too. Fabian and Gideon. I share with my kids my grief because it's easy to admit loss. But how we spent our childhood together? How brave their uncles were... Charlie asks why I wouldn't hang pictures of them up on the family mantle, why I keep their smiles in a box."
But they were her brothers.
The silence they share is one of understanding. What a price they had to pay to finally see each other eye to eye.
"Regulus would've been devastating, wouldn't he? Growing up into a man."
Sirius laughs. A bark more than laughter, really.
"I'd like to think he wouldn't have been. At least not by that much. I'm the good looking one, remember?"
"I don't think you'll stand for my answer. But I'm sure people weren't too hung up on you leaving Hogwarts. I think the students were just fine."
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theodorenmyth · 23 hours
Note
OKAY! Another random funny fluff idea if you aren’t busy with requests 😭. I just seen a funny insta reel where a dude turns around quick because his friend says “don’t make it obvious, but look behind you..” and THIS DUDE SNAPS HIS HEAD SO FAST SAYING “I don’t give a fuck” and I can see that being Mattheo literally not caring for what reader says all because another student keeps staring them down trying to scare them but mattheo is like "take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer” LIKE MATTHEO GIVES THEM THE STINKEST EYE LIKE THE PICTURE BELOW 😭😭 it ends up with Mattheo protectively always be in front of the reader.
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LMGFAOAO OFC yall btw im so FUCKING happy istg THATDAMNCHICKENNUGGET REPOSTED ONE OF MY BLAISE FICS AND IM TWEAKING HARD
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Don’t Make It Obvious
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Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : When another student starts glaring at you in an attempt to intimidate, Mattheo Riddle is quick to jump to your defense. In his typical brash style, he makes it clear that no one messes with you on his watch. What starts as a protective stance turns into a demonstration of just how much Mattheo cares, even if he won’t admit it outright. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 900+
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The Great Hall buzzes with the usual lunchtime chatter, a symphony of voices mixing with the clinking of cutlery. You sit across from Mattheo, lost in a story about your recent Potions mishap. His dark eyes are fixed on you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he listens. It's moments like these that you cherish, where the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you.
"Don't make it obvious, but look behind you," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. Your eyes dart to the side, hoping Mattheo catches the hint without causing a scene.
Mattheo’s smirk widens into a full grin. "I don’t give a fuck," he declares, turning his head so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash. You barely have time to register his response before he’s staring down the student behind you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
You can’t help but laugh, a mix of nerves and amusement bubbling up. "Mattheo, you can't just—"
"Take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer," Mattheo snaps, cutting you off. His voice is loud enough to draw the attention of several nearby students, and you can see the offender’s face flush with embarrassment.
The student, a Slytherin whose name you can’t quite place, quickly looks away, mumbling something under his breath. Mattheo turns back to you, his expression softening as he meets your eyes.
"Seriously, what's his problem?" you ask, more curious than concerned.
Mattheo shrugs, leaning back in his seat. "Probably thinks he can scare you or something. Idiot doesn’t know who he’s dealing with."
You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "You’re something else, you know that?"
"Damn right," he replies, a cocky grin in place. But there’s a warmth in his eyes that tells you he’s pleased with your reaction.
The rest of lunch passes without incident, though you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every time you glance up, Mattheo is already looking, his gaze scanning the room for any potential threats. It’s both comforting and a little unnerving, knowing he’s so protective.
As you gather your things to head to your next class, Mattheo falls into step beside you. His presence is a solid reassurance, a silent promise that he won’t let anything happen to you.
In Charms, he takes the seat directly in front of you, his broad shoulders blocking your view of the rest of the room. It’s a bit over the top, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel safer.
Halfway through the lesson, a crumpled piece of parchment lands on your desk. You unfold it to find a hastily scrawled note in Mattheo’s handwriting: You okay?
You glance up to find him looking over his shoulder at you. You nod, giving him a small smile. He nods back, turning his attention to the front, but not before shooting a glare at the student who dared to look your way.
The rest of the day follows a similar pattern. Wherever you go, Mattheo is there, always positioning himself between you and anyone who seems to have a problem. It’s both endearing and a little exasperating, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.
By the time you reach the common room that evening, you’re exhausted. You collapse onto one of the couches, closing your eyes for a moment. When you open them, Mattheo is standing in front of you, a concerned look on his face.
"Rough day?" he asks, sitting down beside you.
You nod, letting out a sigh. "You didn’t have to do all that, you know. I can handle myself."
"I know you can," he replies, surprising you with the seriousness in his tone. "But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let anyone mess with you."
You look at him, really look at him, and see the determination in his eyes. It’s not just about protecting you; it’s about making sure you know that he cares.
"Thank you, Mattheo," you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He squeezes back, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual bravado. "Anytime."
You sit there for a while, just enjoying the quiet and each other’s company. For all his rough edges and bravado, Mattheo has a way of making you feel safe and valued. And in this moment, that’s all you need.
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As the weeks go by, Mattheo’s protective stance becomes a familiar part of your routine. He walks you to classes, ensures you’re never alone in vulnerable moments, and always positions himself between you and any perceived threat. His fierce loyalty is both endearing and reassuring, a constant reminder of how much he cares.
One day, as you’re leaving the library, you encounter the Slytherin student again. This time, he doesn’t even look at you. Mattheo notices and chuckles. "Looks like he finally got the message."
You nod, grateful. "Thanks to you."
Mattheo’s expression softens. "I’ll always have your back, you know that, right?"
"I do," you reply, meaning every word.
He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk back to the common room. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."
With Mattheo by your side, you know you can face anything. His protectiveness is more than just a physical barrier—it’s a shield of trust and friendship that makes you feel truly safe. And as long as he’s around, you know you’ll never have to face your fears alone.
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA my last fic of the day, i currently have like.. 20 requests in my inbox rn and in my drafts. Ill be posting 10 tomorrow and im still taking more. SO request anything
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isalisewrites · 23 days
Text
A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One
Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.
And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.
This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.
Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.
After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.
I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.
I don't have fame and money.
I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.
You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.
Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.
Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.
Class is in session.
In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.
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There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:
Disconnected Dialogue Lines
The Great Sin of Adverbs
Too much fucking dialogue!
Wrong focus altogether in this scene
Out of POV writing
First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.
To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.
Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.
However...
Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.
Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.
The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.
I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!
What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?
Harry is a tired, burdened child.
Show me this!
Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.
Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide.  “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.
I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:
"No, sir," said Monty curiously.
or
"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.
The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.
There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.
Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.
Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.
The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.
We been done know this, okay? Come on.
This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???
These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.
The plot isn't important. No, it's not.
Harry is the POV character.
Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.
The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.
Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?
Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.
We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.
Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.
We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.
We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.
Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.
This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.
When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.
Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...
Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."
I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.
Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.
All right then.
We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.
More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.
And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.
Until next time.
Isa
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lenoraslament · 3 months
Text
Tom Riddle x Y.N.
Hot Mess Part 1
2.8k words, angst/romance
You’re the resident Slytherin party girl, known for getting wasted with your best friend Mattheo and dancing on tables. Mattheo’s older brother Tom thinks you’re a joke, until you show him that playing with fire can be fun and he learns not to underestimate you.
Part 2
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(Trigger warning: language, some mentions of drug use. Some sexual tension)
“Are you fucking deaf?” You see his sneer before you hear his words
“Excuse me?” You say only responding to the knit in his brow and the downturn of his lips.
“Are you fucking deaf, we’re up” Tom Riddle hisses at you under his breath.
Of course he makes sure only you hear it, as the perfect head boy holds out his hand. It’s an insincere gesture, you may be friends with his brother but neither of you can stand the other. You were a little bit of a mess, and Tom hates mess.
You disregard his hand, as if he was holding a frog out for you to take. You didn’t hear them call your name in dueling class, you could hardly focus.
Last night you and spent the better part of the evening taking shots with Mattheo until the room began to spin. In the morning your head felt cracked open, remnants of your braincells spilling out along with your ability to hear apparently.
You had sunglasses on, the light spilling in from the skylight was too much to bear. Before you slunk into the class, you had doubled over in the bathroom heaving in what some may consider to be ‘an unladylike manner’.
Your only salvation was a piece of peppermint gum you begged Pansy for. It helped, you felt a little bit of strength returned to you.
Enzo flanked your side giving you nervous look as your name was called with Tom’s. He was the top in the class. You didn’t seem as bothered as him, because you were closely following behind him. Most classes you barely skidded by, showing little promise besides charming the professors for a bump up in your grade.
Dueling however, you have a true knack for. Whether it was skill or your temper that fueled your abilities didn’t matter. You were good.
Enzo gave you a hand up the dueling platform, professor Fig approving of his own appointment of opponents. You were his favorite student and Tom was his strongest student.
You raise your wand to the ready when Fig stopped you.
“Are you going to spit out your gum Y/N?”
“Wasn’t planning on it .”
“And your sunglasses?”
“Nope”
The class erupted into laughter, it was a mix of amusement at your overconfidence and excitement to watch you be crushed by their favorite head boy.
Little did they know you had a plan. You had been watching him for a month in class. He was capable but formal. He followed the rules, every flick of the wand perfectly placed, every spell enunciated loudly and clearly.
To the naked eye. It didn’t take you long to realize that he was secretly casting Legilimens and reading his opponents mind. He was anticipating their every move. When you found out, you were so tempted to turn him in. Let him be found out so his perfect reputation would be tarnish. But then you decided humbling him was a much more satisfying route to take.
“Wands at the ready.”
You lifted your wand as he stared at himself in the reflection of your sunglasses, you blow a bubble pop your gum in his face just to piss him off.
“Disgusting creature” he scowled at you as you smirked letting the bubble pop onto your lips.
Don’t think just do. You warned yourself as you took strides away.
You both turned, he immediately cast as you caught. Then again. You only protected yourself from hits as he went at you a little harder than in most duels.
You felt the tiny needleprick in your head and you knew he was trying to read your mind. Even hungover you were able to occlude pretty decently since you anticipated his intrusion.
Two could play at this game you dirty cheater. You let that thought float to the top of his head.
Across the platform you saw a quick flash of shock on his face.
As you defended yourself you did the most difficult magical maneuver you had ever attempted. You held your occlusion while casting a wordless spell.
Expelliarmus you focused and to your excitement his wand flew and clattered. Everyone in the class grew quiet.
“Drop your wand riddle?” You ask smiling,”how clumsy of you”
For a split second the rage that registered in his face took your breath away. Then he smiled the charming smile that had every other girl in school staring at him with dreamy eyes.
“Well Miss Y/N, no need to brag, I know when I’ve been bested” his voice was so gracious and polite. His face almost beseeching. You knew better though.
After class you headed for your dorm in Slytherin, the hangover was intensified by the exhaustion of using wandless magic and occluding. On a regular day it would have tired you but now you felt absolutely spent. Tom cut you off in the common room.
“Get over here you little bitch” he said in a low tone dragging you by the arm to a corner where no one could witness his rage.
“How?” He towered over you, his handsome features darkened by anger and the shadows of the corner of the room.
You tipped your sunglasses onto your head and gave him a delicious grin.
“Oh I don’t know a thing you’re talking about Tom. No need to be a sore loser” you say your voice dipped with honey.
He yanked your arm so hard you know you’ll have bruises. You reach for your wand ready to duel him again or stab it in his eye you aren’t sure. Then Mattheo comes up.
“What gives?” He asks his brother, standing nearly between the two of you.
Tom releases your arm roughly and looks at Mattheo whose eyes are challenging him.
“Your little girlfriend was being a cheating twat in class” he snapped under his breath.
You glared at him,”me?”
Just as Mattheo puts his hand on Tom’s shoulder to mutter some sort of taming words you cut in
“He’s not my boyfriend!”
Mattheo looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at you.
Tom raises his eyebrow watching for Mattheo’s reaction
Mattheo is unphased. Any feelings he may have had for you vanished in year 3 when you became friends.
“She’s not worth it Tom,” Mattheo said,”right?”
His words are low and soft, calm and ready. He truly is the opposite of his cold, angry big brother.
“Hey!” You protest at the insult but Mattheo lifts his hand to shut you up and for once you do. Tom’s lips curl up into a smirk, the insult enough to tide his anger. For now.
“She is certainly not” Tom says as he walks away without as much as another glance your way.
As he does Mattheo lets out long breath of relief, his smile when he turns to you is devilish
“So I heard you bested my brother at a duel,”he is nearly giddy and it makes you laugh
“Utterly destroyed him,” you crack a smile that turns into a yawn. Finally solace awaits you in your dorm room where you fall asleep for hours.
Tom Riddle picked up a book on his desk and slammed it back down.
You had pissed him off so much, he couldn’t even study. It had been two years since he had lost a duel. To lose to you was beyond his belief.
Stupid. Vapid. Whore.
The words spinning in his head making his chest tighten. The image of you in your sunglasses, popping your gum onto your lipgloss was enough to make him throw the book at the wall of his dorm. He wanted to go curse you. His brothers stupid best friend who he never took seriously.
You barely skated by in your classes, you were popular, a party girl. If it wasn’t for your looks he was sure you wouldn’t have even registered on his radar.
He had to admit he liked watching you duel in class. The fiery way your temper overtook all sense of reason shilling out charms to quickly that you never even had to use a defensive charm.
Today was different, he thought. You had been cold, calculated, you had been watching him. The idea disturbed him deeply. The idea of someone as shallow and insipid as you studying him.
He of course, would now have to return the favor. He needed to know how a hungover mess like yourself manage to occlude and cast a wandless spell. Impossible.
It was after dinner when he saw you stumble out of your dorm in a pair of tiny pajama shorts and a ratty old t shirt. You sat next to Enzo where he and Theo were talking.
Tom was in an armchair across from them reading, hardly listening. Waiting.
He watched as you reached over and grabbed the bag of chips that Enzo was eating stuffing your mouth full and complaining about missing dinner.
“Finally sleep off that hangover?” Theo teased and you threw a chip at him.
Your eyes shift over to Tom who you can see is glaring at you in the corner of his eye.
“What can I say” she start smirking at him,”victory wipes me out”.
Tom’s eyes shift back down to his book,”Getting blackout drunk on a Wednesday is what wipes you out Y/N” he snaps.
Enzo sheepishly smiles at you both, always the peacekeeper.
“Speaking of getting black out drunk, what time are we getting bottles for the party on Saturday?”
You roll your eyes, “Draco is just sending his elf, I’m not worried about it”.
Tom put his book down,”party this weekend?”
You almost laugh, you hardly saw him at parties. Only to pick up one of his fan girls with a charming smile and quickly take them back to his room. You couldn’t count how many times you saw those same girls crying the next day. Heartbroken when he kicked them out the next morning in a hasty fashion.
“Yes in the common room” Enzo answered him eagerly.
“If you weren’t such a loser you would know” you added as the other guys shook their head at your aggressive words.
Tom quickly dipped into your mind, ‘god I hope he doesn’t go’ you lamented to yourself.
This made him grin as you immediately glared at him feeling the small pinprick in your head sending a thought to the top as you tried to occlude.
“GET OUT OF MY HEAD FUCKFACE” the thought practically screamed making him jump in his seat.
You both shared a look. Dripping in resentment.
Theo tugged the back of your hair,”wanna go smoke?”
You nod and scurry away with Enzo following Theo so he can help you get high enough to suppress the rage that Tom makes you feel.
Saturday comes too slow for Tom’s liking.
Although he is rife with anticipation, he doesn’t even bother to leave his room until close to midnight. The common room is thumping with the sound of music heavy with bass. The room is heady with the mixed smell of cologne, perfume, sweat and alcohol.
His arrival prompted the hungry eyes of many girls he hoped to avoid but a couple did swarm.
He politely grinned at them even throwing a wink as he scanned the room of writhing bodies around the dance floor looking for you. Some girl handed him a glass of bourbon, he sits down on a lounge chair as she saddles next to him. He sips and ignores her chatter, finally he spots you.
You stood on a coffee table, swaying your hips side to side to the rhythm of the music. You are saddled by Enzo and Mattheo. Mattheo has his hands loosely on the hips of a blonde Ravenclaw as he danced. Enzo’s fingers are clutching into your waist, his head is bent forward muttering something in your ear to tempt you but you only laugh.
Tom makes note of your tight, short dress and strappy heels. Such a tawdry display seemed to be held onto your body by just sweat and body glitter. He surveys heavy eyelids and parted lips instantly aware that you are not only tipsy but also must have smoked a joint beforehand.
Theo hands his blunt over to Mattheo, he lifts you by the waist sitting you on the bar top table.
You’re distracted pouring salt on the crook between your thumb and pointer finger. Mattheo takes a hit as he pours a shot glass of tequila handing it to you. You place it between your breasts easily.
“Gonna be a good girl for me Bella?” Theo asks with a smirk.
You roll your eyes before he sticks the lime in your mouth, “you know the only reason I let you do this is because I get to smack you right?”
Theo and Mattheo both laugh as Theo roughly shoves the lime between your lips. He licks the salt off your hand before shoving his face between your breasts making you roll your eyes. You draw your hand back and smack him just hard enough to make him laugh.
He delicately takes the lime from your lips with his teeth but you draw back only letting his lips brush against yours. Theo is forever unphased, picking the joint out of Mattheos fingers and taking a hit.
Tom watches this exchange greedily, with curiosity. He feels a hand on his thigh, and turns to see the little yappy girl smiling at him. He takes her chin in his hand and lets his lips fall on her ear.
“Go get me another drink darling” he says softly. She looks as if under a spell as she smiles eagerly and nods her head.
Tom stands up to lose her and heads over to where you sit. Enzo remaining hopeful, is begging to take a body shot.
“You know I can’t slap you Enz,”you tease,”you’re too cute”.
His eyes look up at you hungrily,”then don’t. Just let me take it”.
You tut and grin,”that’s against the rules”.
“What are the rules?” You nearly jump at the sight and sound of Tom. Although he’s been observing you half the night, you only barely become aware of his presence.
You stick your tongue in your cheek as you observe his appearance. You’re so drunk, so damn drunk, but you knew even sober he was fucking hot. His dark button down and slacks fit him perfectly. His stupid perfect hair and dark eyes. Your eyes drift down, making him smirk.
“You can only take a body shot if I get to slap you,”you mutter.
He grins and nearly shoves a protesting Enzo to the side.
“Show me”.
You raise your brow, doubting he would go through with it.
“I wouldn’t want to cause damage to your only redeemable quality” you tease squeezing his face.
He shoves your hand away and looked at Mattheo to pour the shot. He hands you the lime and watches as you lick your hand and salt it.
Mattheo nervously gives you a full shot of tequila observing as you and Tom lock in a glare.
Tom’s hands roughly dig into your thighs pulling you down the table closer to him as you let out a muffled noise against the lime in protest.
He snatches your wrist fingers pressing into your pulse point. His eyes keep yours as he licks the salt from your hand flicking his tongue.
If your mouth wasn’t full, you would have gasped. His hands squeeze your thighs again as he takes the shot from between your breasts, taking his time before tipping the glass into his mouth.
Theo, Enzo and Mattheo watch as they swim in horror and amusement.
You draw your hand back and slap him so hard his face goes to the side. It rings. Everyone around you is watching the show now. Crazy Y/N smacking the ever living magic out of Tom Riddle.
His hand snakes up and tugs the back of your hair pushing your face forward. In shock you drop the lime and instead feel his tongue plunge in your mouth. He kisses you roughly, leaving you breathless and biting your lip hard before he draws away nearly shoving your head back.
You push him away with your leg in frustration. God I hate him. But your mouth is still buzzing with the kiss. Theo and Mattheo are laughing at the two of you. Enzo is forlorn as he goes to hook up with another girl to get his mind off things.
You hop off the table to take a shot of your own but Tom lingers.
“Do I get to slap you next,” he teased with a grin.
“Only if you want my heel in your face” you snap back.
“Are you going to pretend you didn’t like it?” He stands so close his chest it on your arm
“I’m going to pretend it never happened, suck it easy Riddle,” your words are slurred but angry, “not if the entire magical race depended on it”.
He leans over so his breath tickles your ear,”I don’t like sluts anyway”. You both stare at each other, eyes burning in pure hatred. For a moment he falters, his eyes draw down and land on your lips. Even in your drunken stupor the tension send a little shiver down your spine. Tentatively you begin to lean forward. At your movement he draws back quickly, as if you were fire, leaving you wanting.
You watch as he leaves, grabbing the arm of some girl who happily followed him and they walk out of the party.
Part 2 here
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writesleah · 6 months
Text
august ౨ৎ m. riddle
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౨ৎ mattheo riddle x fem!reader
౨ৎ fluff/angst
౨ৎ a whirlwind summer with mattheo leaves your head spinning and craving more, but when he chooses to ignore you at school, you know there has to be something going on. you just didn’t expect it to crush you so much
౨ৎ sex references, mentioned loss of virginity, cheating, slight toxicity, no war au
౨ৎ 2.2k words
౨ৎ I LOVE FOLKLORE i honestly might make this a little series and make a oneshot based on every song from the folkmore sister albums because it’s so fun lmao!!
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mattheo riddle. a concoction of every terrible, addictive thing you could think of. a drug to your susceptible mind. the one person who ruined everything by giving you such happiness.
it all started back in the summer before 7th year. of course, most teenagers flee to the coast during the warmer summer months, a desperate attempt to absorb as much sun as possible before having to return to scotland's less than scorching weather for yet another year of classes at hogwarts. you were no different, and it seemed mattheo wasn't, either.
salty ocean air filled your nose as his lips met yours, a desperate action to be close to each other. he blindly searched for the rusty door handle of his hotel room behind you, wanting to get you out of the hall and into his bed as quickly as possible. sure, you’d had a couple of heated make-outs before, but nothing like this. it had never gotten to this point.
quickly pulling you down onto his sheets, he let his hand wander, beelining towards the plush of your ass, your hands searching through the chocolate curls atop his head.
“you sure you want this?” he whispered into your ear, planting sloppy kisses along your neck, his breath loud and heavy next to you, “i mean it. are you sure?”
you let your head fall back into the pale pillow, a place to rest whilst you tried to understand all of the new sensations pumping through you like blood from your heart, giving yourself a second to think.
“i’ve never done this before, matty,” you replied, your tone timid and weak compared to the rough husking of his voice swirling around your head, a constant memory of the boy you knew you’d never get over.
“it’s fine. you trust me, yeah?” mattheo pulled away for a moment, wanting to check before going any further with you.
“i want this,” you nodded, giving him all the reassurance he needed, prompting him to continue his journey down your body with the knowledge that you wanted to do this with him. you trusted him with something as fragile as your purity. that made him feel fucking insane.
his dark eyes took in the sight of you sprawled out across the white hotel bed, your soft lips and innocent eyes, your hair forming a halo around your head. his angel.
“red or white?” you smiled up at mattheo, your eyes darting to the bottle of wine in his hands as he handed it to you with a small shrug.
the two of you had decided to have a little picnic by the beach, a day to relax together as if that wasn’t what you did every day, anyway.
“not a clue,” he huffed, sitting down on the blanket you had set out on the sand, his hand instantly going for some cheese and crackers.
you slapped his hand away, a small pout on your face as he met your gaze, having absolutely no clue what you were stopping him for.
“wow, this looks fantastic! this is so good! thank you so much for getting all the food!” you mocked quietly, rolling your eyes. no matter how hard you tried to appear annoyed, you couldn’t hide the small smirk that crept its way onto your lips.
“oh, shut up,” he chuckled, tugging his shirt off and tossing it to the side, shaking his head, “thank you for putting it together. it looks really nice. you’re really nice, angel,” he added, his words playful, yet still a genuine thank you.
you poured each of you a glass of wine, laying down next to him, both of you on your stomachs, as he began to absolutely demolish the small buffet on the picnic blanket, your fingers lightly ghosting over his back. you couldn’t help but trace your own name, an invisible claim on the boy you adored more than anything.
“what are you doing?” he huffed quietly, turning his head to look directly at you and the way that a pink blush quickly spread across your cheeks as you got caught, your fingers pulling away, “i didn’t tell you to stop. i asked you what you were doing.”
“just… enjoying the moment,” you shrugged, shuffling close to him in an attempt to brush off the way you got flustered at his words.
his arm snuck around you almost instinctively, his lips planting a small kiss buried deep in your hair. a secret. a mark so important to you, but invisible to everyone else.
“i’m enjoying it, too,” he mumbled in reply, his free hand covering his mouth to hide all the food he’d shoved in it.
mattheo walked along the side of the road, watching the white-rimmed waves roll over on each other, bored of having nobody to speak to when you weren’t there.
he looked to the left as a car rolled around the corner, his head tilted slightly. he knew those sunglasses.
“no way,” he huffed, his jaw dropping as the car stopped next to him, “no fucking way. you passed?”
you looked up at him with a wide grin, absolutely ecstatic that you had not only taken your driving test whilst on holiday, but had passed, meaning you could drive anywhere you wanted. mattheo had already passed his a couple months before, so you’d been using him as your personal chauffeur for your time together, but you could finally go wherever you wanted on your own.
“get in, then,” you rolled your eyes playfully, nodding to the passenger seat of the convertible as he quickly made his way around to the other side, seeming just as excited as you were.
mattheo’s arms wrapped around you, pulling your head close to his chest as he smiled down at you.
“i’m so fucking proud of you, angel,” he muttered, planting wet kisses on your cheek, holding you tighter than ever before, “we should go out to celebrate. that italian behind the mall that you like? i’ll pay.”
you nodded, not wanting to turn down an opportunity to do anything with him, especially when you were already in such a good mood.
you drove to the restaurant, a regular place the pair of you went together since it was so small and intimate, yet never felt overcrowded.
you both got your meals and began eating, laughing and joking as normal, casually celebrating you passing your test.
“mattheo?” a girl’s voice came from behind you, his eyes immediately hardening as he glared up at whoever it was, “where’s-”
“don’t,” mattheo cut her off with a warning, your head craning around to see who it was.
pansy parkinson.
pansy was a fellow slytherin girl in your year; you knew her a little due to sharing some classes, but you were nowhere near being friends.
pansy just glanced between the two of you, her jaw slightly dropping further and further until she caught herself, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“you’re fucked up, mattheo riddle,” she hissed as she walked past your table and out of the door, seeming not only shocked, but angry.
you turned your head back to the boy, your brows furrowing in confusion. it seemed that mattheo and pansy had a silent understanding of whatever it was they were talking about, and you were not part of it.
“what was she talking about?” you asked, but he completely ignored you, slamming his drink onto the table and walking out of the restaurant, leaving you even more bewildered.
you watched through the front window of the restaurant, watched them argue and shout at each other about something. it seemed as if pansy was calling him out for something, but you couldn’t think of what he could’ve done. sure, he was a bit of a troublemaker, but why would it affect pansy?
after a couple minutes, mattheo walked back into the restaurant, seeking incredibly annoyed about whatever the situation was.
“what was she talking about?” you repeated, your head tilting with not only confusion but concern.
“nothing, oh my fucking god,” he spat back, before checking himself on the way he was speaking to you, “sorry. it’s just… it’s nothing. it’s not going to ruin today. this is about celebrating you, not wasting time on whatever pansy parkinson has to say.”
you nodded and continued with your meal, though couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than he was letting on.
after the summer, you returned to hogwarts for your final year, everyone talking about their breaks incessantly. the issue was that mattheo had told you not to tell anyone about your involvement with him.
“let’s keep this as much of a secret as we possibly can, okay?” he’d muttered to you as you laid next to each other in bed, your head on his stomach and your body between his legs.
“why?” you’d asked, completely oblivious to why he wouldn’t want to share your feelings for each other with your friends and be happy in public, but he’d just shut you down every time it came up.
“i wanna keep this private, angel. there’s no need to have everyone else involved in whatever it is that we’re doing.”
if only you knew.
you’d spent the first week confined to your dorm, cancelling every plan anyone tried to make with you to wait for a single call or text from him, but nothing ever came. the second you got back to school, mattheo ghosted you.
you were sitting in your defence against the dark arts class, occasionally catching mattheo’s gaze every now and then. you’d always give him a small smile, but he would just look away or glance at you with a vague, unidentifiable expression. he showed no hint of compassion or knowledge of you in public past the odd conversation about the work you were doing in class when one of you were a bit lost and nobody else was willing to help. that had only happened once or twice. it was frustrating.
a small tap on the shoulder caused you to turn around, a girl sitting behind you with a sour expression on her face.
“did you fuck daphne’s boyfriend?” she spat, glaring at you with a look that could kill.
your cheeks instantly grew a little red. you’d only ever done anything with mattheo. who was daphne’s boyfriend?
“who?” you replied, your brows furrowing in pure confusion.
“don’t be fucking stupid,” the girl hissed, rolling her eyes, “mattheo riddle, daphne’s boyfriend.”
that one comment, that one single question seemed to bring the whole world to a stop.
you quickly asked your professor if you could go to toilet, a chance to escape the room that seemed to be clawing at your skin, ripping it raw. your eyes began to burn, a dangerous waterfall of tears threatening to spill down your face.
quickly rushing off, you brought a little attention to yourself, though it wouldn’t surprise you if everyone knew what it was about. pansy must’ve told them. it hurt more that he didn’t tell you.
it seemed that mattheo noticed, because, only seconds after you entered the prefect bathroom, he came rushing in after you, immediately trying to pull you into his chest, but you resisted.
“how could you do this to me?” you whispered, unable to stop yourself from crying as you looked up at him, “how could you do that to her? you’re… god, i should’ve listened when people said that you were out of control. this isn’t right, mattheo. you lied to me!”
he just stood there, seeming completely and utterly unbothered by your meltdown and rambling, his head tilting slightly.
“out of control? who told you that?” he scoffed quietly, rolling his eyes. it shocked you that the one comment he chose to pay any attention to was the one that was purely about him as a person, and not your words about how he affected everyone else.
“everyone, mattheo, everyone says it,” you huffed out, letting out a breath of shock at how he brushed it all off, “everyone always talks about the troublemaker that can’t keep himself away from a fight and can’t be nice to people. god, i thought they were so wrong. i thought that i had been the way to find a good side of you, but it wasn’t even real.”
he screwed up his face slightly at your words, but didn’t say anything, leaning against the wall as he mindlessly picking at his nails and giving you no attention whatsoever.
“i was so scared, y’know that?” you whispered, your voice quiet and soft now, your eyes pleading, begging with him to hear you out, “you were ignoring me. i thought i’d lost you and it turns out that you weren��t even mine to lose. do you even know how much that hurts? you could’ve told me, at least. yeah, i would’ve been upset, but at least you would’ve been honest,” you continued, watching his eyes flick up to you.
“it was just a summer fling, angel,” he muttered, realising that you weren’t going to stop crying. with that, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving you stranded with your own thoughts. your own reflection.
it was just a summer fling.
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hollowdeath · 5 months
Note
hii! I love love loveee ur harry fic. can I request a modern au where harry and fem reader are both famous actors, they get paired up to do a movie where they have to do a s3x scene, and things get pretty heated off set as well ~
hi! thank you so much for requesting, i really enjoyed writing this! i hope you like it!
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: you're filming your first romance movie that features a sex scene with harry potter (early 20's), an actor you've only ever seen on the big screen. despite both of your nerves, a growing chemistry between you two leads to something more in the dressing room.
content warning: smut!!! dry humping, oral sex, penetration
word count: 8.7k (i can't write short blurbs i swear lol)
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you were currently sitting in the hair and makeup chair chatting with the stylist about each other's respective careers, laughing and messing around before your official call time. you always went out of your way to talk to the crew on any set you worked, not just to be respectful, but also to make everyone comfortable around you right away.
it was a little hard to grasp from your perspective as you were only thrust into the spotlight a few years ago, but you were in enough successful movies that you were now pretty recognizable to most people. not that long ago you were just like everyone else, a fan of celebrities yourself who went to premiers and fawned over meeting them. today, those same people are technically your coworkers. it's something you're still learning to accept as your new normal.
that being the case, it was easy for people to feel a bit intimidated by you. you were well-liked, by both fans and people in the industry, and already highly-acclaimed with quite a few notable awards/nominations under your belt in just a couple years. and while you took your acting seriously, in your real life you were very different from the stoic characters you played. funny, warm, personable, always trying to lighten the mood - you were a pleasure to work with in every sense, so the intimidating preconception people had of you would quickly melt away.
"wow, jen, it must be so cool being able to work with so many celebrities all around the world," you sighed. the stylist, jenny, gives you a bewildered look in the reflection of the mirror. "well, you do that too y'know? you're one of those celebrities that people will ask me, 'oh my god, what's she like?'" she laughs at you, finishing up the final details of your hair.
you give her a half smile, feeling a blush rise on your cheeks. "okay, well, i guess…but it's not the same. i'd love to travel as much as you do. i know it's for work, but i'm sure you get to see some pretty incredible places," you gush. jenny smiles back at you.
"i do, it's nice and all, but you get to be on the big screen with some pretty handsome faces," she teases. "i mean, that movie with timothee you just did?" she practically moans. "i would do anything for that boy," she laughs.
your blush only worsens. being a young woman in the industry you're very often paired with actors around your age, almost always men, to have a romance plot line with. it seems like no matter how artistic, action-packed, or sad the movie is, they just can't let you leave without having you makeout with said actor at least a million times before getting 1 good take. after a while it becomes so routine that it loses all novelty. kissing becomes meaningless and these 'heartthrobs' just become coworkers to you.
"please, timothee's like my brother at this point," you roll your eyes, pulling out your phone to check the time. just a few more minutes before you have to leave and be on set. "and i'd much rather do his makeup than makeout with him in front of everyone again," you laugh, putting your phone back in your pocket.
"well, y'know, i was doing the potter boy's makeup just before i came in. wouldn't mind making out with him a few times, lucky duck," she teases you, starting to pack up her equipment.
harry potter. the name was familiar to you. he was an actor around your age who started getting more roles at the same time you did. you always seemed to miss each other at award shows and premiers, so you haven't been properly introduced yet, but you had been somewhat excited to work with him on this movie.
it was your first proper romance, a book adaptation that you had actually read just a few years prior on your own. you knew the director well and you were his first choice when casting the lead role. at first you were a bit hesitant to accept because you didn't even enjoy the little romance you did in your previous movies, so you weren't sure how you'd feel doing an entire film centered on it. but robert, the director, had convinced you to at least read the script, and you were hooked from there.
it was less of a romance and more of a drama, focused on the downfall of a marriage due to the wife, you, having an affair. that's where potter came in. you learned he was cast for the role of the 'side piece' only a month or so before filming began, and you weren't sure how to feel. on one hand, like jenny said, he wasn't bad looking from what you had seen in his films. however, when you previously did these types of scenes with costars, you at least knew them previously and could be friendly with them between takes. you had never met potter, not even seen him off-screen, and now you have to have an entire affair with him on camera.
that's another thing. you've only ever done heated kissing scenes before, maybe a little undressing and implied nudity, but nothing too explicit. this would be your first real 'sex scene', which just added another layer of awkwardness to the situation on top of not even knowing the basics about each other. to say you were anxious about filming those scenes would be an understatement.
"then you can take my place, cuz i'm not looking forward to it. you know i've never even met him before?" you ask as you stand up from the chair, stretching your body after sitting for over 2 hours. "just gonna introduce myself like, 'yeah, hi, i'm [y/n], nice to meet you. you ready to pretend to fuck passionately for the next 4 hours in front of the catering staff?'" you joke, putting on a voice and pretending to shake jenny's hand. she laughs at you, pulling her hand back and waving you away.
"oh hush, you're gonna do just fine. hell, you might even like it." she gives you a smirk as you just laugh her off. you exchange goodbyes with her, wishing her well and thanking her excessively for her time.
as you're walking through a maze of hallways to find your set, you run into robert. he looks like he's seen a ghost when you greeted him.
"oh…[y/n]...i've been meaning to talk to you…" he says nervously, trying to keep his tone positive. you narrow your eyes at him. you've worked with robert long enough to know when he's about to tell you something he knows will annoy you.
"robert…" you warn him, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. he sighs. "look, just walk with me." he tells you as he walks away, motioning you to follow.
as you catch up to him, he begins trying to find the best way to break the news to you. "see, well…we uh…we think it's best if, uh…maybe…" he stammers, causing you to look at him with concern. you've never seen him this nervous to tell you something. "what? just spit it out, rob." you tell him.
he sighs again, rubbing his forehead. "look, casting just isn't sure on this potter kid yet. we've shot a couple of his solo scenes already, but…" he trails off, trying to find the words again.
"but…?" you ask confused. he gives you an apologetic look. "but…we just need to see his chemistry with you first." robert says. you're just more confused, staring at him blankly. robert slows to a stop and turns to you, his hands raised in innocence.
"it's not my idea, but cast wants you and potter to shoot the sex scene today so they can decide if we're keeping him or not," he admits regretfully.
you're completely dumbfounded. there's a few moments of silence before you can even conjure up a response. "what?"
he sighs yet again, clearly stressed about the situation. "i know, trust me, i know, you weren't excited to do this scene to begin with but…think about it this way," his voice turns to the same fake positivity to try and reassure you.
"if we shoot all the lovey dovey stuff first just to find out there's no chemistry during the sex scene, then we just wasted all your time, all his time, and a lot of money…" he reasons with a strained voice. you're still giving him a death glare, arms crossed, not buying his excuses.
"robert, that doesn't even make any sense. wouldn't we build chemistry over time like any other movie? i thought i had at least a couple weeks to get to know this kid before… you know…" you trail off, blushing from both frustration and embarrassment.
"i know, i know, but cast is really pushing for this other guy, but i've wanted potter in this role as long as i've wanted you as my lead." he says desperately, his hands literally pleading with you. "please, [y/n], i know this isn't cool of me, but i'll do anything you need from me for the rest of filming. for the rest of my life!" he's joking, but there's a hint of seriousness in his voice. "just, please?"
you're still glaring at him, not happy that you're being put in this predicament. you take a second to breathe, trying to think past your anger, and see this from an outside perspective. realistically, even if you and potter did have chemistry outside of the sex scene, it didn't necessarily mean it would transfer over. by filming that first and getting it out of the way, there would be no awkward building of tension over the next few weeks knowing what's to come. and who's to say there even is any chemistry? then they'd end up having to switch him out for an entirely different actor, which could up a lot of time for paperwork and legal fees…
sighing, uncrossing your arms, you give robert a look of defeat. "fine."
robert's relieved, thanking you profusely as he continues to show you the way to the stage. he's trying to babble on about how you're going to do great, and there's nothing to be afraid of, but you can't focus on his words even a little bit because your heart is thumping so loud.
as you walk into the bustling room with robert leading the way, you can't help but search the room for potter's face. you want to at least see who you're going to be dry humping from 4 different angles.
recognizing different crew members you've worked with before, you smile and say hello to each of them as you continue analyzing each face in the room. you only kind of know what he looks like, so it might be a fruitless search, but it's the only thing that can distract you from your growing anxiety.
robert brings you to the catering table, telling you to make sure you eat and drink some water before being pulled into conversation with someone else and, eventually, leaving you behind completely. whatever, you think, he wasn't helping anyway.
grabbing for a water bottle, you drink at least half of it before feeling a tap on your shoulder. you're twisting the cap back on as you turn around.
harry potter.
you can instantly tell it's him, though he's now wearing glasses, something you don't remember seeing in his movies. he has a shy, nervous smile as he offers you his hand. "[y/f/n] [y/l/n], right? i'm harry potter," he introduces himself. "i guess we'll be filming together for the day."
you smile and shake his hand. "harry, hi, it's nice to meet you. and, yeah, i guess so…" you reply shyly, noticing that your hands are sweating, as well as his. he chuckles just a bit, reaching for a water bottle as well.
"yeah, i take it robert talked to you already?" he asks before he takes a drink. you nod, giving him an awkward smile. "he did…" you chuckle as well. "just a minute ago, actually."
harry nods in return. "yeah, he came by my room not even an hour ago to let me know." he states.
there's a few moments of awkward silence between the two of you before harry sighs and sets his water bottle down. he turns to you with his hands up just like robert.
"look, let's not be coy, yeah? this is weird as hell." harry states bluntly, a look of guilt on his face.
you let out a surprised laugh, setting your water bottle down as well. you turn to him, giving him your attention, curious to see what else he has to say.
harry briefly looks you up and down, his hands still raised. there's a hint of anxiety in his eyes before he blinks and shakes his head. "and, i'm just a big fan of yours in general, and this is really not how i wanted my first sex scene to play out, especially with you…" he emphasizes, his eyes widening at his own words.
"not that i didn't want it to happen at all, i definitely did, just, like…" he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands in frustration. you can't help but giggle at his nervous antics. you didn't know what to expect in terms of his personality, but you certainly didn't think he'd be so humble and shy. most actors you meet close to your age are either full of themselves or try too hard to be something they're not. you've made friends with plenty who aren't like that, but it's definitely more common than you expected.
with harry, however, he seemed very honest right away. he wasn't putting on a face to impress you, if anything he was failing miserably at that…but you found it really admirable. he reminded you of yourself, in a way.
after hearing you giggle at him, harry looks back at you with flushed cheeks. his brunette hair, an already messy fringe, was now even more disheveled. you continue to giggle at his expression, covering your smile as you look him up and down as well. tired converse, blue jeans, a maroon zip up, and a plain blue polo. you'd never think this kid was a famous actor based on his appearance. even his glasses looked old and bent out of shape.
but again, you found it admirable. no designer names, no flashy accessories. not that you found anything wrong with either of those things, it's just what you're used to seeing. it was refreshing, harry's simplicity.
he awkwardly chuckles with you, wringing his hands together nervously. "uh, what i'm meaning to say is…" he trails off. you interrupt his thoughts. "i know what you're saying," you reassure him. he looks back up at you. "you do?"
you laugh again. he's oddly innocent despite his age. "i do. i've never done this before, either." you admit. "oh, i know, i've seen all of your films plenty of times," harry beams, his nervousness melting away a bit. you're taken aback by his statement. "oh?" you respond.
he nods proudly. "oh yeah, i'm just a big film person in general so i'm constantly watching them at home. or on the plane. or in the dressing rooms…" he laughs. you smile warmly at him. again, something about him is so genuine to you. not afraid to be a fan.
"but, anyways, yeah, i just love your work. and i know you've worked with robert before, so i was over the moon when i heard he wanted me to work with you guys. that was one of my favorite films that year, y'know? definitely deserved more recognition than it got." harry rambles. 
blushing, you give him an incredulous look. "yeah, we have worked together before. i-i loved that film." you're clearly impressed with his knowledge of you and of cinema in general. that film wasn't even all that popular, and definitely not your most well-received work as far as the critics went. "thank you. really."
harry's smiling at you, admiring you in a way.
you blink a few times to come back to reality. "u-um, i love your work, too. i actually just went and saw your most recent one twice, before robert even told me we'd be working together." 
harry's shocked, his mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. "you…you've seen my movies?" he asks with a slight smile.
again, you can't help but giggle at him. his humility just keeps surprising you. "of course i have. you're not the only actor who enjoys films, y'know?" you tease him. he laughs, shaking his head.
"yeah, i'm…i'm just surprised, i figured you might not be familiar with me at all, really," he shrugs, still sounding in shock.
"well, we always miss each other at shows and such, i always meant to introduce myself, but…" you trail off. "i know! tell me about it! i've wanted to meet you for ages, seriously," harry gushes. 
smirking, you cross your arms and shift your weight. "well, what do you think now that we've met?" you ask, mostly sarcastically but also curious about his response.
he clears his throat, the nervousness coming back slightly. "u-uh, well, um…" he stumbles. "quite honestly, i didn't think you could be more beautiful in person." he admits like a schoolboy with a crush.
his response gives you butterflies. he's so adorably innocent, but such a gentleman at the same time. at no point does his admiration for you feel manufactured or forced. it's like he's truly just happy to be with you in this moment.
"well…thank you, harry," you respond. "you're not so bad yourself. i really adore the glasses." you admit with a blushing smile.
harry perks up immediately. "really?" he asks, excited and shocked at the same time. "they're prescription, actually, i'm blind as a bat…but no director wants me to wear them, they say i look like a total nerd," harry laughs, but you can tell it saddens him.
"nerds are hot." you shrug. harry's stunned for a moment before chuckling, his eyes softening for you. "right."
you and harry continue to chat for a while, losing all sense of time as the crew continue to work around you. you're mostly discussing films you both enjoy, and have incredibly similar taste. you love all the same directors, and grew up watching the same stuff.
this eventually leads to talking about both of your starts in acting, which are also strikingly similar. you discuss your experience so far as a woman in hollywood and he listens intently, asking questions with genuine curiosity and concern. he tells you about his experiences with theater growing up and the connections he made throughout his time performing.
you're completely enthralled with the conversation and feel like it could go on for days without any complaint. it's not until you hear robert calling both of your names that you look at the time and realize you've been talking with harry for nearly an hour and a half, but it feels like you just started 10 minutes ago.
harry follows you towards robert who's talking to the wardrobe team. you recognize a few faces and excitedly greet them, asking how everyone's been.
"potter, [y/n], these lovely folks are gonna walk you through how this works as far as clothing, don't be afraid to ask questions," robert told you both distractedly, his head already turned away before he ran off to help someone else out on set.
you and harry are separated and put into your respective outfits for your characters, as well as specific underwear for the scene. looking in the mirror at yourself in a simple dress, you can't help but feel the nerves coming back to you as you realize you actually have to film this scene with harry soon.
harry…
when you come back, he's already in his outfit and waiting for you. he's in an earth tone suit, his glasses taken off and his tie slightly undone. you have to admit that he looks extremely handsome, and decide to tell him so with a smirk. "says the most gorgeous girl in the room," he instantly quips, but you can see the blush blooming over his cheeks.
the wardrobe team basically teaches you both how to take off your clothes in a "movie style" that looks best on screen. specific movements can obstruct certain body parts from the camera, some take less time than others depending on what you're wearing, just little things that keep you from having to constantly reshoot the scene.
after a few tries of swiftly removing your dress, and taking glances at harry as he took his button-up off, you start to get the idea and have the motion memorized. you're laughing with one of the assistants you've met previously about the task and catching up with her in general. harry comes up behind you and also recognizes her, giving her a friendly hug. you're impressed with how personable he is with her, asking about her schooling and her roommates, parts of her life you hadn't even known about. you couldn't help but be in awe of him. he really was like you in so many ways.
before you get too comfortable, the wardrobe team informs you and harry that you have to also practice taking each other's clothes off for the camera. obviously, you thought, but you were still a bit shocked at the news.
you turned to harry, who's already waiting for you with that familiar smile. you smile back nervously. "hey, it's alright. it's just me." harry reassures you. the tone of his voice is so comforting it actually helps settle your nerves a decent amount.
both of you basically learn what the other person learned, you taking off harry's suit jacket and tie as he lifts your dress in one swift motion. the first run through you're a bit nervous and end up giggling most of the time. harry also laughs with you, making the atmosphere less tense. 
"feels like a dance, oddly enough," harry says, pretending to dance with you. you laugh and agree, dancing along with him.
after a few more awkward tries, you both start to get the hang of it and feel more comfortable with each other both physically and emotionally. you're cracking jokes, helping teach the other how to unclothe themselves quicker, just having a good time that comes so naturally to both of you. it doesn't take too many tries before you can efficiently take off each other's clothes without giggling or accidentally tickling the other.
before long you're both placed on set, a mock living room that resembles the apartment of harry's character. you and harry are given a few simple, non-sexual scenes to start with. the scripts are kept close by in case either of you need a refresher, but you both seem to have your lines memorized well and go through the scenes very naturally.
you were familiar with harry's acting of course, but something about how he performed his lines with you struck a different chord. his emotions were so raw, his timing felt natural, and his eyes told a whole story on their own. at one point you got so lost in them you missed a beat, quickly correcting yourself and focusing your gaze elsewhere.
you only had to redo them one or two times before moving on to the next scenes, which included kissing. you could feel your heart start to race again before harry's hands found their way to your shoulders from behind, a soft but firm grasp that sent chills down your spine.
"remember, it's just me," harry mumbles to you, coming around the side of you with a reassuring expression. somehow he knows exactly how to ease your nerves, and does it at the perfect times.
you're moved from the couch to the 'front door' area, where robert has you and harry mimic the steps he wants you to take before the cameras start rolling. "[y/n] opens the door, harry grabs her hand and pulls her back in," he directs you two like puppets as he shows you how and where to stand. 
harry has you by the hand, your palms still sweaty as he squeezes your hand for reassurance. you smile at him, and he smiles down at you before quickly looking back at robert's actions.
"harry backs her up to the door, back, back, back 'til it closes," harry's pressed against you, chuckling under his breath as he looks down at you. you try to hold back a smile.
"kissing, kissing, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda," robert calls out despondently, flipping a page in his notebook. "harry, you take her shoulders and push her against the east wall," robert points to the wall just next to the door, and harry lightly moves you to the other wall, keeping his body close to yours.
"really sweet, yeah, but make sure it's passionate!" robert says dramatically, making both you and harry laugh.
you're instructed on the best way to take each other's clothes off for the cameras, and practice only a bit before officially having to start to scene. in the lull between the cameras being placed properly and the lighting being set, you start to nervously crack your knuckles and try to steady your breathing.
harry appears in front of you. he lightly grabs your chin with his fingers and kisses you softly on the lips. you're a bit stunned at first but can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach. you look up at harry with wide eyes, and he's chuckling again. "sorry. just thought i'd get the first one off-camera."
your mind is jumbled and you're staring at harry with, undoubtedly, a ridiculous face. you can't even remember the last time a kiss made you feel this way, or if one has ever made you feel this way before.
you suppress another smile as robert calls for places. somehow you're now less nervous about making out with him, if anything…you're excited about it. that soft, gentle kiss he gave you left you wanting more. maybe he just knew kissing you before being filmed would make it feel more natural on camera.
the scene starts, harry pulls you through the doorway, and backs you up against it until the door clicks shut. you're looking up at harry with wanting eyes, exploring his face as the camera pans to your left. once it pauses, harry pulls you in for an eager kiss.
your hand goes to his jaw, keeping it out of the way of the camera's view. you realize after a second just how comfortable you are kissing harry. not only are you comfortable, you're actually getting into it. and so is harry.
as another camera pans towards the wall beside you, harry grips your shoulders firmly and pushes you against it, reconnecting your lips with a desperation that felt completely real to you. it only fired you up more, running your hands through harry's hair and arching your body closer to him as the kiss became hungrier.
"cut," robert calls out in a casual tone, causing harry to pause and take a step away from you. you look at him for only a second before you have to look away, crossing your arms, a blush completely taking over your face.
what the fuck was that?
you've made out with plenty of guys plenty of times, but not like that. not even off-screen have you been kissed so passionately. either harry was the best kisser in the world, or you were confusing your feelings with your character's.
"that was great, guys, no issues, just gotta readjust," robert informs you as he works with a camera guy to get the angle right. "harry, can you come in again?" he asks, motioning harry towards you.
harry steps closer to you, giving you a shy smile like he didn't just change your entire life with one kiss.
you smile back at him, still blushing, mind still spinning. he may be pretty cute with his glasses on, but at least without them you can get a better look at his pretty green eyes. you wondered for a split second if his glasses would get in the way of you making out with him, but you quickly dismiss the thought as he's your costar. one that you barely met 3 hours ago.
the camera gets adjusted, and you're directed to just continue to the undressing part of the scene. you look over at harry, getting closer to him as you mumble, "do you think it'll be difficult, kissing and undressing at the same time?"
harry gives you an unsure face, looking at his tie before loosening it a bit. "might be, i'll get it started for you," he says, unbuttoning the top couple button of his shirt as well. you smile at him a bit. "just take your time, i'll help you." he says. something about the way he looks at you lets you know he means it, and you believe him.
as the scene starts, harry pulls you in for another breath-taking kiss, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach yet again. you know something's not right about this. well, actually, everything couldn't feel more right with harry's lips pressed against yours, but that's the problem. you're way too into this for it to just be acting for a movie, and it seems like harry's just as into it, if not more.
you quickly start undressing him, pulling off his suit jacket as he helps you, repeating the steps you practiced together. except now you were trying to keep the kissing going smoothly.
your fingers began fumbling with harry's shirt buttons, getting it and his tie off just in time for him to pull the skirt of your dress above your head, resuming your kiss with an eagerness that surprised you.
"cut, nice, one more time, little bit quicker guys," robert calls out. you pull away from harry breathlessly before trying to put your dress back on. harry redresses as well, and a stylist comes from the side to fix the back of his hair. he thanks them by their name and with a smile.
you and harry resume the scene again, picking up the speed just a bit as you attempt to make out and undress at the same time. the quicker you both moved, the more intense the kiss became, as if neither of you wanted to stop for even a moment to breathe.
"cut, nice, thanks guys," robert calls out, walking away to the furthest camera man.
you and harry redress, making funny comments to each other about the scene as you do. you notice your lipstick is on harry's lips, and you giggle as you tell him he should maybe wipe it off. "maybe i like this shade on me," he says sassily. you just roll your eyes and laugh at him.
as you chat a bit more, robert eventually comes up to you guys with a script in hand. "okay guys, we're gonna do this quick and try to get it in one take if we can. we wanna eliminate all the awkward for everyone, including the camera guy," he jokes, waving towards the camera man who laughs at him.
you and harry chuckle dryly, knowing what's coming next. 
a few crew people leave the room, whether robert told them to or they chose to you're not sure. it's down to just a few more people than you and harry, along with a camera. you look at each other, harry giving you a big smile before he starts undressing.
you follow suit, listening to robert's instructions. "the scene's barely 10 seconds of screen time, so we're only gonna do about 30 seconds of filming. yeah?" you both nod, setting your respective clothes to the side. you're quite a bit relieved at this news, glad that everyone else wants to get this over with as much as you do.
you're both wearing nude colored underwear, harry's briefs and your panties and strapless bra matching your skin tones enough that it could pass for nudity in the dim lighting. you feel a bit exposed, but not to the point of embarrassment, especially having harry next to you in just as little clothing as you.
"alright, now, i don't care if you're both virgins or whores, we all know what sex looks like, so i'm not gonna get too graphic here," robert jokes to lighten to mood, making you and harry laugh to yourselves as you give each other embarrassed looks.
"all i'm gonna do is tell you where to be and you guys just feel it out from there. sound good?" robert asks. "yeah," you both say at the same time. "but remember, you're a cheating bride, so put some oomph into it," robert jokes with you, walking towards the couch. you feel your cheeks heat up as harry tries not to laugh.
robert has you on the couch, laying with your head hanging off the arm as harry steadies himself above you. his arm has to be in a certain position to keep you covered for the camera, and as he repositions himself to their liking, you admire his body from your view. his chest is well built, his shoulders and collarbones creating shadows across his lovely pale skin…
you had to stop. this is just a job. he's an actor, you're an actor, you're acting together, nothing more. just be professional.
just before the camera's start rolling, harry looks down at you and gives you that same reassuring smile that makes your heart skip a beat every time. fuck. stop doing that.
"it's just me. okay? just you and me." his voice is so deep and he's so close to you, and the lighting behind him is making him glow. this moment could be a movie on its own.
"yeah," you breathe out, mesmerized by his words. just you and me. you could do that.
when the camera starts rolling, harry's hips start grinding into you slowly, his lips immediately connecting with yours. you involuntarily melt into him, your hands reaching for his shoulders as his leg starts rubbing against your panties. you let out a moan against harry's lips, and your grip on him gets tighter.
his hips become more and more rough with you, using your thigh to rub against rather than your panties themselves. it doesn't matter. you're still insanely turned on. and not just as your cheating character, but in real life, as yourself. 
as you throw your head back in pleasure, harry takes advantage and digs his head into your neck. he's softly biting at your skin as he brings a hand to one side of your face, keeping his other arm stable for the camera.
he brings you back in for a kiss, and your hands are back in his messy brunette locks. this time he moans, and his rocking hips begin to pick up speed, grinding with more force into you.
your face twists in pleasure, partially for the camera but mostly for harry. you can't believe how natural this feels for you. it's like it really is just the two of you, no camera, no pressure, just pleasure.
as robert cuts the scene, there's a tone to his voice that was different compared to his normally distracted, stressed voice. harry slowly backs up from you, an indistinguishable look on his face as he gives you space to sit up.
you sit up, and quickly walk over to grab your dress. you don't feel uncomfortable, you're just afraid that you got wet enough to soak through your panties and really don't want anyone to notice.
as you slip the dress over your head, you notice harry putting on his pants. you can't tell if you just saw him from a weird angle or if you looked too quick and were mistaken, but you could've sworn he had an erection he was stuffing in his trousers.
well, even if he did, that's normal, right? you're both young people practically dry humping each other and pretending to enjoy it, of course your bodies are going to think it's real and end up actually enjoying it…right?
that's what you tell yourself as you try your best to seem normal, fixing your hair and steadying your breathing as robert makes his way over to you.
"that was, uh…that was great. i don't think we'll have any problem keeping potter, yeah?"
with a heavy hand on your shoulder and a knowing smile, robert calls it a day for the rest of the crew still on set and says his goodbyes.
you're a bit confused by his statement, but try not to think about it too much. you turn to look at harry, but he's already gone.
you're a bit surprised. you thought for sure harry would want to maybe chat a bit after all that, but you tried not to be disappointed as you turned around and headed towards the wardrobe department to retrieve your real clothes.
after getting dressed and setting wardrobe's outfit back in their closet, you make your way out towards the hallways. your mind is still racing, but you're trying not to think too much about what just happened so you don't lose your mind.
on your way to your dressing room, you kept feeling like someone was watching you. the feeling made you walk a bit faster as you tried to remember which hallway was yours.
once finding the door, you quickly let yourself in until a hand stops the door. as you peak through the crack, you see a tie hanging over a messily buttoned-up shirt, and instantly recognized it was harry.
you open the door a bit more excited than you expected yourself to, and are completely in awe of the man in front of you. messy hair, his glasses back on, still wearing the wardrobe outfit without the suit jacket.
"harry," you greet him, smiling like an idiot. he smiles back. "[y/n], hey, um…" he takes a breath, seeming a bit nervous. "sorry i just dashed, i hate those contacts and had to put these back on," he jiggles the frames of his glasses from the the side, making you giggle. "well, i guess i can forgive you. only because i'm pro-glasses," you say with a smirk.
harry seems so nervous, he's constantly shifting his weight and his smile isn't reaching his eyes.
"well, um, i just wanted to say, y'know, thank you for trusting me today…i know it wasn't easy but you did really, really well," his smile is so sweet, and his eyes are incredibly kind. you swear he's trying to get you to swoon.
"thank you, harry, but you made it incredibly easy to trust you…" you say with a small smile. "and it went a lot better than i was expecting." you say with a laugh.
harry cracks a smile. "yeah, same here. i actually wouldn't have minded it at all minus the cameras and audience." harry tries to joke with you, but his nerves are still overpowering his voice. is he joking, or does he feel the same way you felt shooting that scene?
smirking, you lean on the doorway of your dressing room. "i don't know, part of me thinks the audience part is kinda hot…mostly terrifying and vomit-inducing, but…" you joke back with him. he tries to laugh with you but he looks a little shocked by your statement.
"but, i agree. i didn't mind it at all." you say with a tone of seduction. you try to analyze harry to understand how he's feeling, what he's thinking, and why he's so nervous to be talking to you after everything you just did. yeah, maybe you shouldn't be playfully flirting with a coworker, but he started it…
there's a few moments of silence between you exchanging nervous glances with each other. you somewhat enjoy watching harry squirm like this under your gaze, after being so calm and collected on set it's pretty funny to see him fall apart with just you and him.
"uh, look…" harry finally breaks the silence, looking at the ground before making resistant eye contact. "[y/n], i know i said i was a big fan, um…" he's sweating, and he can't stop shifting his weight.
"but, i was just wondering, since, y'know, now we work together for a bit, maybe, um…"
god. he's so cute. is he really nervous to ask you to hang out after having practically having sex on camera? you can't take it anymore. you don't care if you're working together, you need him.
you grab harry and pull him into your dressing room, closing the door and locking it before turning to him and practically forcing him into a kiss.
harry's a bit stunned, quite a bit, but he quickly begins kissing back. the performance kiss was nothing compared to this. he's somehow an even better kisser when it's just the two of you. 
this time, you're pushing harry into the wall next to the door. you smile up at him between making out. "this feels familiar." you say with a smirk. harry nervously lets out a laugh before immediately pulling you back in for the kiss.
the tension that's been built between you guys for the last 3 hours is finally being released, your hands exploring as you slowly take off the other's clothes. unlike the acting you were just doing, you're both gentle with each other and take your time to carefully take the other's clothes off. you're admiring harry's body as his shirt comes off, throwing it to the side. you're mesmerized by his neck and shoulders.
harry takes a moment to admire you, his hand on your cheek as he moves a strand of hair out of your face. your heart couldn't have been beating louder. something about these small, intimate moments with him between the heavy kissing and touching actually makes you more nervous. it was one thing to just be physically attracted to him, but the soft kiss he gave you during the break between filming and now this gentle moment between making out had your mind racing with questions but wanting nothing more than to just keep going.
"harry…" you sigh, examining his face while he looks down at you. "[y/n]...this is like a dream come true…" he whispers softly. the genuine look in his eye has your stomach twisting knots. "i never thought an on-screen kiss could feel like that…" you respond just as quietly.
his smile's real this time, no nerves, no looking away, just admiring you with the most loving smile. "don't tell robert, but, um, i wasn't acting out there. that was harry kissing [y/n]," harry tells you with a chuckle. you feel yourself smiling like an idiot and suppress your laugh. "yeah, i could tell," you say with a smirk.
harry pulls you in to kiss again, and your hands go to his chest. standing on your toes, you push your body further into his, moaning into harry's mouth as his hands find their way to your waist and hold onto you firmly.
"fuck," he practically whimpers, his hands sliding down your hips and eventually to your ass. he squeezes it roughly and causes you to gasp. "i want you." he states simply, staring you in the eyes again. "i don't care if we get in trouble, i'll take the fall. i just, fuck, i need you [y/n], please…" harry breathlessly begs you, his hands making the way under your shirt and up your back.
"we're just working on our chemistry," you respond, helping him pull off your shirt. he groans at your mutual eagerness and his lips attach to your neck and chest, leaving plenty of bite marks as you tangle your hands in harry's fringe again.
letting moans slip out of your mouth without a second thought, your body is responding to harry like it never has with anyone before. everything you've done with someone before him has felt so mild and mechanical, but harry was so naturally passionate with you. you're not sure if it's because he's always been attracted to you or if you just really, really find yourself attracted to him…
eventually harry's lips find your own again, and his hands begin to explore. he runs his fingers over your bra straps as he traces your back, sending shivers all over your skin. smiling into the kiss, he's loving the effect he has on you. harry slowly unclasped your bra and you let it fall to the floor, his hands already replacing it as he massages your tits.
your hands make their way down to his pants, pulling at the waistband only slightly before harry immediately unbuttons them for you, helping you push them before he separates the kiss and kicks off his pants entirely. you steal a glance down and see his erection. "i've had this since that first kiss, need you so bad" harry's voice rumbles.
you take your pants off as well, with harry's assistance, and he pulls at the waistband of your panties. "fuck, everything about you is so beautiful," harry admits before attaching his lips to yours sloppily. the kissing becomes needy, messy, and secondary to you groping each other roughly.
harry spins you around so you're now against the wall as he begins kissing down your body. the cold wall makes your skin shiver again, the visual of harry slowly getting to his knees in front of you making your mind spin.
he looks up at you for just a second above his glasses and your heart can barely take it, how can someone be so adorable yet so incredibly sexy and seductive at the same time?
eventually harry's mouth finds its way to your panties, softly kissing your pussy through them as you squirm under his touch. quiet whimpering and frustrated hip thrusts let harry know you need more, and he slowly pulls the fabric to the side.
you're in a complete state of ecstasy watching harry eat you out from above. his eyes are softly closed as he gets lost in licking and sucking on your clit. his hands go to your legs as he lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, getting a better angle.
you're full on moaning now, not afraid to let harry know just how good he's making you feel. you can't remember a time where someone was this eager to eat your pussy, solely giving you pleasure. you can feel yourself getting wetter against harry's lips and blush at just how desperately your body's craving him.
"harry, fuck," you whimper, your hands returning to his hair as you begin to slowly grind down onto his face. harry is completely accepting of this, moaning as you stuff his face further into you. his moans send shockwaves through your body, gasping as you feel the tension building in your body.
harry looks up at you, his eyes full of lust and barely open as he continues to make out with your pussy. you can hardly stand the erotic sight before you as he watches your body react so well to him.
"fuck, harry, keep looking at me like that and i'm gonna cum," you teasingly scold him. you can see the smile in his eyes as he backs away, his chin and lips soaking wet. your body goes cold, missing his touch, and your climax fades away.
he quickly wipes his face with his hand before standing up and going back in to kiss you. you moan as the taste and smell of you is all over him. his hands go to your weakening legs and he lifts you up without breaking a sweat. you gasp and look down, seeing he already took off his boxers as he holds you against the wall. you look back in his eyes and they're so much darker than you remember, the bright green now a haunting emerald as he searches yours.
"i need you," he growls, the complete opposite of his usually gentle nature. you can't hold back your moan, something about his desperation makes you crave him so badly. you've never felt so wanted or loved by a partner.
"need you," is all you can say before you kiss him again, tongues instantly entangled. he takes this chance to use one hand to stroke himself, your legs wrapped around his body as he continues to hold you against the wall. 
as harry's slowly pushing into you, your body envelopes him and embraces the pleasure. he's slowly thrusting up into you, his eyes completely fixated on your face as you fall into bliss. you can't get the words out, but harry feels so perfect inside of you. it's everything you've been wanting since he gave you that loving kiss on set.
harry's pace stays slow and torturous until he begins groaning and thrusting more desperately. "holy fuck, [y/n], you feel so fucking good," harry's head falls into your chest, his heavy breaths hitting your skin. the only sound you can make are your pathetic whimpers, your head thrown back against the wall.
harry starts sweating as he holds you against the wall, his legs getting weaker along with his arms. despite that, his thrusts become quicker and more hungry as his hand finds its way to your pussy. your whimpers turn into moans as harry brings you closer to your orgasm. his head lifts to look at you as you reconnect your lips, forcing your tongue in his mouth.
you can feel that knot in your stomach tightening, your hands finding harry's shoulders for something to hold onto. his exasperated breaths and gasps against your lips only turn you on even more. even at his weakest moment he's doing everything possible to make sure your pleasure and comfort comes first. 
"harry, harry, i'm gonna cum," you say between kissing, your arms wrapping around his neck. "please, baby, please," harry groans eagerly, pushing your body further into the wall and thrusting even deeper into you. you can barely wait a moment before letting yourself go, burying your head into harry's neck as you call his name. harry's breathing is completely ragged as you squeeze around his cock, loving the way your body feels against his as you begin shaking.
it's not long into your climax that harry slows down, his hips stuttering before pulling out at the last second and letting his cum drip to the floor, his head falling into your shoulder as well.
you let yourself down from harry's grasp, your legs barely able to keep you up. harry steadies you, chuckling, his reassuring hands on your arms. "okay?" he asks breathlessly. you look up at him, his face is completely drenched and flushed as he stares at you lovingly. "yeah, fine," you say with a smile, using the wall to balance yourself.
you and harry stare at each other for a bit before going in to kiss each other again. it feels so natural, like you've been kissing him your whole life. the butterflies come rushing back. even after having sex with harry you still feel so attracted to him in a nervous, crush-like way.
after getting dressed harry offers his phone to you, asking for your number. you set your contact's name to your character's in the movie, and it leaves harry blushing. he's smiling at you for just a moment before he envelopes you in a hug. warm, comforting, and completely safe, you lean into his touch and don't want to let go.
with some flirtatious remarks and a promise to meet up tomorrow for a date, harry's leaving your dressing room in a barely buttoned up shirt and messy hair. you watch him disappear down the hall before closing your door, hardly able to believe you're already so smitten with the costar you only met earlier that day.
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crvptidgf · 1 month
Text
Playing Doctor
Mattheo Riddle x Ravenclaw!Reader
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➸ summary: you fall ill and your boyfriend takes it upon himself to make sure you take care of yourself
➸ warnings/notes: mentions of getting sick, taking medication, fevers and feeling ill, poor eating, other than that it’s just fluff
word count: 684
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IN THE PAST five hours you have cried, thrown up, fallen asleep and woke up at least 3 times. And to top it all off, your fever has been steadily going up bit by bit.
You weren’t sure if there was a virus going around or if you just had extremely bad luck. The only thing you were grateful for was that you got to skip class. And for Mattheo.
He had not left your side the whole day. No matter how many times you warned him that he would get sick, he still opted to stay in your dorm instead of attending his lectures. He made sure to ask your friends for any notes you missed, knowing that you got stressed over falling behind.
There was no way your fellow Ravenclaw classmates would let you down in that department. They were masters at note-taking.
So with the worries of school out of your mind, you were able to some-what relax. However that didn’t last long. You shot up out of bed suddenly, your stomach lurching and your mouth salivating. You were going to throw up.
Mattheo barely had any time to ask if you were okay before you sprinted out of bed and into your ensuite. There wasn’t much to puke out considering you had barely eaten all day. Your boyfriend made his way to you. He held your hair up and helped you clean yourself up, rubbing your shoulders as you sobbed over the bathroom sink in pain.
“It’s okay,” he said while gently picking you up bridal style, “you’ll feel better soon I promise. You just need to get it all out.”
After setting you on the bed, he stalked over to the bedside table where he pulled out a box of antibiotics. You whined in protest.
“Teo, I can’t take those. They taste like shit and I’ll only get sick again.”
Sitting on the bed, he sighed. “I know, but you have to, sweetheart.”
He pet the hair away from your face, pushing the sweaty strands to rest behind your neck. You were getting frustrated now. Unfortunately though, in order to get better he would have to get you to take the medication. So he decided to come up with a solution.
“Tell you what,” Mattheo spoke as he set the pills down again. “If you try to eat a bit of the soup Luna brought, we can skip this round of medicine.”
It wasn’t a great idea to stray from the medical schedule, but he couldn’t think of another way. And anyhow, you hadn’t eaten all day. He would take the milestones as they came.
You rubbed your forehead, thinking about it. You finally gave in and nodded, immediately regretting it and wincing at the pain. In all honesty you knew you should’ve just taken the medicine. Every bite and swallow of the food made your stomach churn, and you had to take breaks in between to focus on keeping it all down.
Mattheo watched as you ate, smiling.
“Why are you smiling at my pain?” you croaked, lifting the spoon up to try get some more nourishment.
He only shrugged. His eyes were too fixated on your bowl of soup. What he failed to mention was that while he went to heat up the food, he slipped your antibiotics inside, hoping that the taste would be masked.
“Just thinking. I kind of like playing doctor for you.”
You smiled. The first smile you had managed in the past hour. Your boyfriend always did everything he could to make your life easier, and you were eternally grateful.
“Can we sleep now?”
Grabbing the bowl from you, he put it aside and scooted under your blankets. He had wanted you to sweat out the fever, so the layers were slightly hard to get under. It was worth it to make sure you wouldn’t get too cold.
With Mattheo’s arm around your shoulder and your head on his chest, you fell asleep quickly. This time you finally slept through the night.
And Mattheo was to thank for it all.
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