a/n: english is not my native language so sorry if there are any mistakes.
You were walking to your next lesson when a warm hand suddenly grabbed yours, pulling you into a quiet alcove just off the corridor.
Before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself face-to-face with Harry Potter.
“Harry!” you hissed, heart racing. “I’m going to be late!”
“So am I,” he whispered, not looking the least bit concerned.
You narrowed your eyes. “Then what exactly are we—”
Before you could finish, Harry leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips. Your thoughts immediately short-circuited. It was so sweet, and completely unfair.
By the time you processed what had just happened, he was already grinning like an idiot.
“There,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just stolen the breath from your lungs. “Now you can go to class.”
You stared at him, still stunned, flustered, and definitely blushing.
“You planned that,” you accused, poking his chest.
Harry only shrugged, looking very pleased with himself. “I saw an opportunity.”
“You ambushed me!”
“Technically, yes.”
You huffed, trying to glare at him, but your lips were already betraying you with a smile. “You’re impossible, Potter.”
Harry grinned, leaning in just enough that his nose brushed against yours.
“You love it,” he murmured. And he was absolutely right.
Before you could retaliate, the distant sound of a professor clearing their throat snapped you back to reality.
Your eyes widened. “I have to go.”
Harry smirked. “See you later, love.”
You quickly turned away, trying to walk as if your knees weren’t made of jelly.
i have a request!! first of all i love your writing so much and the fact you only write about harry makes me love you more.
just imagine yearning!harry. we break up w him because he’s kinda complicated and has a lot of things in his mind which makes him emotionally unavailable so he doesn’t give us enough attention and sometimes neglects us. we still love him but we need to walk out because is not doing us any good. and after a month or so of no contact we see each other at a party and he can’t take his eyes off us and eventually approaches us. basically we end up in his bed making love and harry telling us how much he missed us and that he loves us, needs us back and is sorry!!!!
41 days ౨ৎ
summary: a month later after you and harry broke up, george throws a party. there, you’re both remember why neither of you ever really let go.
warnings: post-war, exes to lovers, angst, yearning, smut, p in v, fingering, praise kink.
a/n: tysm for this request, i hope you like it!!! i loved it, and tysm for all the suggestions ans stuff you send me <333 love y'all.
hjp masterlist.
harry and you had broken up a month ago. 41 days exactly, you had counted them. lately, your mind couldn't think about anything other than the day everything ended.
you knew harry was unstable. a suffering boy who grew up carrying the weight of deaths and curses that had doomed him forever, but you couldn't stay by his side if it meant you would drown with him too.
the last few months of your relationship had been exhausting, especially after the war, when it felt like there was no point in staying together if you couldn't even do normal couple things anymore. harry spent all his time depressed, and during the first days you comforted him and stayed by his side, until you couldn't stand living locked away in what had once been your love nest anymore. you were becoming depressed too, you weren't living the way you were supposed to.
you had moved back in with your parents, and harry had stayed in his apartment. after all, he had bought it, and you refused to stay there even when he insisted.
george had organized a party at his apartment. ever since fred's death, george had been very withdrawn, so the invitation surprised you, but you also understood that maybe his way of silencing the emptiness left behind by grief was noise. so you went.
you assumed harry had been invited too, and even though you didn't know if he'd actually go, the thought made you nervous.
when you arrived, george opened the door for you. ron, ginny, and hermione were already there, and after greeting the older redhead, you joined them. you recognized some of the weasleys' friends and acquaintances, even some people from hogwarts. it didn't take long before someone was already offering you a drink.
you had talked to hermione about harry. it was a difficult subject for her, because she was friends with both of you. with ron, you tried not to mention him, knowing he'd always been closer to harry. they were like brothers.
"how are you handling all of this?" hermione asked. you sighed. "i don't know, i still can't process it," her hand rested on your arm in a supportive gesture. "it's not being easy for harry either, y'know?"
her words only made the knot in your throat tighten. there were nights when guilt ate you alive for leaving him during such a difficult moment, but you also knew it wasn't healthy for either of you. there wasn't a single day you didn't wish things had turned out differently.
"come to the bathroom with me? i want to touch up my makeup," you changed the subject quickly when you felt your eyes starting to get watery. hermione noticed the shift in your expression, but she didn't say anything and followed you.
once you'd fixed your lipstick and hair, you walked out of the bathroom. you decided not to think about harry anymore, or at least try not to. after all, he wasn't there either.
when you looked up, you nearly bumped into george. "oh, sorry," you apologized. "thinking about someone? why so distracted?" he teased with a grin. hermione shot him a look, and he shrugged.
"here, loosen up a little. you need it," he winked and offered you a glass of firewhisky. you were about to say no, but he was quicker. "take it, i won't accept no for an answer, and i know you're thinking about harry, so this'll help you forget him," he insisted. "george! you're not helping!" hermione grumbled. "what? it's true! you can see it all over her face!" he defended himself.
"he's not wrong," you muttered under your breath and took a sip. the liquid burned your throat, and you grimaced at the sudden warmth flooding your body. george looked at hermione smugly.
just then, ginny joined the group. "none for me?" she pouted at her brother. he rolled his eyes. "gin, i've already given you like two," "so? make me another one," she shoved him, making him complain, and leaving you two alone. you let out a small laugh.
"you look gorgeous, y/n!" ginny complimented you with a smile, and you noticed she was trying to cheer you up. "thanks, gin. you too," you returned the compliment, taking another sip from your glass.
you stayed with them for a while, talking about nonsense and gossip. you were so caught up in the conversation that you didn't even notice when harry arrived.
he walked through the door, and the first thing he noticed was you. you were laughing with hermione and ginny, but his eyes were fixed only on you. immediately, he felt the urge to leave, and he knew it wasn't going to be easy if you were there, but ron approached him and pulled him out of his thoughts.
"mate, you came," he patted him on the shoulder and led him over to the usual group. you included.
your eyes met instantly, like something automatic, and your heart stopped for a second when you recognized every flicker behind his eyes. he looked away and greeted everyone with a small smile. you noticed the discomfort on his face. after so long, you still knew the meaning behind every little gesture.
even though the last time you'd seen each other hadn't been that long ago, it felt like an eternity had passed, and every second you remained close to him was a reminder of how far apart you actually were.
everyone else seemed excited by the conversation, except for you and harry. ginny noticed the slight tension between the two of you.
"y/n, come with me," she pulled you from your thoughts. "what? where?" you asked, confused. "just come with me," before you could say anything else, she was already dragging you to the kitchen. you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment, because you wanted to keep looking at him. that damn jacket he was wearing looked so good on him.
"oh my god, the tension in there could be cut with a knife," she commented while putting ice into a glass. you raised your brows at her. "i don't know what you're talking about," but you knew exactly what she meant.
she gave you a don't-play-dumb-with-me look and poured some strange liquid into her drink that you decided not to ask about. "you two are getting back together, i've already told you," she said playfully, and you pretended not to hear her.
"drink this," ginny practically shoved the glass into your hands. "what is it?" you asked skeptically, eyeing the drink. "i'm not going to poison you, trust me. i need to pee," and before you could answer, she was already gone.
"gin!" you shouted after her, but it was too late. you looked around and realized you were alone in the kitchen.
the noise of the party felt muffled there beneath the warm lights, and you decided to stay there for a while, waiting for your friend. you looked at the drink she'd given you, inspected it, and took a sip. it wasn't bad at all—in fact, you were surprised by how good it tasted. you'd never had anything like it before. you kept drinking and sat down on the counter. it wasn't the first time she gave you some weird drink.
you heard someone walk in, and when you looked up, you found harry.
it seemed like he hadn't noticed you since he was looking for something in the fridge, but when he turned around and saw you, he stopped in his tracks.
suddenly the floor became very interesting. heat rushed up your neck, and before you knew it, he was practically standing right in front of you.
"i'm sorry, i need to..."
just hearing his voice made your heart race. you had no choice but to look at him, and this time it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. it took you a second to realize what he wanted, and when you understood he needed to grab something from the cabinet, you finally reacted.
"oh, yeah, sorry," you moved a little, sliding over where you sat so he could reach it. your eyes drifted toward the small strip of his abdomen skin exposed by his movement, and you forced yourself to look away.
an awkward silence stretched between the two of you for a few seconds. neither of you really knew what to say.
"what are you doing here?" he asked, and your head snapped up at lightning speed. "what are you doing here?" you tilted your head.
"george asked me to make him a drink," he replied, placing the glass beside you.
"i was with ginny, but she went to the bathroom and never came back. she leave me," your last words came out quieter, and somehow harry felt like they were directed at him.
he nodded, but didn't say anything else.
"want me to help you?" you blurted out.
you had no idea where your sudden ability to hold a conversation with your ex had come from. the alcohol was starting to kick in.
he looked at you with raised brows and hesitated before answering. "if you want," you leaned closer, still sitting on the counter, and looked at him inquisitively.
harry took a moment to stare at you. "what?"
"wasn't george asking you to make him a drink?" you said. "ah, right, that," he nodded.
"honestly, i don't know what he wanted. he told me to make something ginny always makes, but i've got no idea..." he ran a hand through his hair, confused.
"oh, let me," you cutted him off, taking the glass from his hands. the simple brush of his fingers against yours sent a spark down your spine. ginny had taught you how to make a drink only she knew how to make, and somehow you'd always remembered it.
you were painfully aware of harry's eyes moving over you. the distant sound of the music made the tension in the small space feel even more intimate.
after a little while, you finished.
"i think it's done," your voice came out lower than expected, and you looked at him.
you realized he was standing almost between your legs. you also noticed him swallow, your eyes flickering to his adam's apple before returning to his gaze.
"thanks," he said almost in a whisper, and you gave him a small smile. "it's nothing," you were sure your cheeks had turned crimson.
a few seconds passed like that, just staring at each other, and unconsciously your hand had drifted closer to his. you seriously considered leaning in and kissing him, but before you could do anything, someone else walked into the kitchen.
you had never hated george weasley more than in that moment.
"harry, it's rea— oh," harry turned around and met george's gaze. you recognized the mischievous glint in the redhead's eyes.
"i... i'm gonna go look for ginny," you said, flustered, hopping off the counter as quickly as possible.
you walked out of the kitchen, and the sudden change in lights and loud music overwhelmed you a little. you looked for ginny, but your mind could only replay harry and the small moment you'd just shared.
hours passed, and somehow, you ended up alone on a couch. at some point everything had become too overwhelming, and you needed to be alone. but the problem was that your thoughts kept drifting back to harry, and now you were overthinking every glance you'd exchanged throughout the night.
hermione and ginny had tried distracting you, and it seemed ron and george had done the same with harry. it was as if the two of you were trapped in the same situation, but neither dared take a step that might end up meaningless.
you were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a familiar voice.
"how much did you drink?"
it was harry. why did he always appear at exactly the right moment?
"don't start," you tilted your head. "i'm seriously asking," he insisted.
"why do you care?"
that hit him hard. he couldn't say because i'm your boyfriend and i care about you anymore, like he used to. you weren't supposed to matter to him anymore, and yet you still did.
"hermione asked me to check on you," he lied.
"i want to go home," you ignored his earlier question. "i don't think apparating would be a good idea right now," you admitted more quietly. you'd been drinking and didn't want to risk it, and besides, you didn't have a car.
"i can drive you home," you lifted your gaze to him, now kneeling in front of you.
"how?" you asked, confused.
"i'll drive you," you stared at him for a few seconds before asking, "you have your license now?" when harry had been your boyfriend, he'd had the car already, but he still hadn't gotten his license.
"yeah, about a month ago," his answer made you think about how many things had changed since you stopped being together.
harry gave what looked like a signal to the others, and seconds later you were climbing into his car.
instantly, your mind filled with memories: when harry had been learning how to drive and you'd take little rides around the neighborhood; when he'd let you choose the music on the radio and you'd turn it up all the way until the two of you were singing together; the way his hand would sometimes rest on your thigh...
the sound of harry opening his door distracted you. he sat down and found your eyes already on him. neither of you spoke for a second, as if you were both thinking the exact same thing. harry's hand slid over the steering wheel.
"you stared at me a lot tonight," you blurted out.
you didn't know what made you so direct, maybe the alcohol, but both of you knew it was true.
harry's fingers tightened around the wheel, and this time he really looked at you. "i know," he admitted.
your eyes drifted over his arms. this time he wasn't wearing his jacket, and the black shirt he had on highlighted his strong hands and arms perfectly.
"why?" you asked.
he noticed your stare and hesitated before answering. not because he didn't know the reason, but because he didn't know if he could handle what came with confessing it.
"because i miss you,"
your breath caught, and your eyes found his again.
"and because you know i've always liked that dress..."
his observation made you smile. of course, it hadn't been intentional at all. "yeah, i know," you shifted a little closer.
suddenly the car felt too small, and the two of you were much closer than you should've been, but neither pulled away.
his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you focused on every tiny detail of his face: the brightness of his eyes beneath the dim light, the softness of his skin, the line of his jaw and nose, the curve of his lips...
"kiss me," you practically sighed.
harry didn't need more than your permission to do what he'd wanted all night.
finally, his lips found yours. your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair while his cupped your cheeks, keeping you as close as possible.
at first he was careful, gentle in the way he kissed you, but when you let out a humm of satisfaction, harry felt his restraint begin to shatter. he'd wanted you so badly, thought about you so much, that he wanted you completely for himself.
with a small groan, he pulled you even closer until you ended up half sitting on him in the driver's seat. you smiled against his lips at the clumsiness of your movements, but it only made you kiss him harder. your fingers tightened in his hair, and the little movement of your hips as you adjusted yourself against him made another groan slip from his lips between kisses.
before you could do anything else, he pulled away. your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily, and you opened your eyes.
a flicker of guilt crossed harry's face. he felt like he was taking advantage of you.
"not like this," you knew exactly what he meant.
"i'm not drunk, harry," you clarified softly. he only looked at you. "i miss you too," you whispered, your eyes starting to fill with tears. "please," you pressed your lips against his again.
harry felt himself melt against you. how was he supposed to say no to your please?
"not here, anyway. i want to have you properly," he whispered against your lips.
"take me home," and you didn't need to clarify which one, because both of you knew that when you spoke about home, you meant the place you'd once shared together.
the drive was short, but to you it felt endless.
when you finally arrived at the apartment you used to share with him, a million memories flooded you instantly. everything looked the same, just without your things, but it still carried his scent and that feeling that belonged so completely to the two of you. harry closed the door behind you and hung up his keys.
one of his hands found your waist, almost asking for permission, and pulled you a little closer. he looked at you like he couldn't believe you were real.
"we can't even stay apart for one month, can we?" you smiled a little, knowing he was right. one of his hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.
"i'm sorry for everything..." your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him, cutting him off, and making him letting out a happy sigh instead. "not now," you whispered against his lips.
you were going to have time to talk, but now you just wanted to lose yourself in him, even if only for a little while.
soon enough, he was lifting you into his arms and carrying you to his bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist.
when you reached his room, he set you down. he bit your bottom lip, his tongue brushing against yours and making you moan softly as you kissed him deeply. your hands were already tugging at his shirt, pushing him toward the bed. he pulled away just long enough to take it off, and then you settled yourself on his lap.
you took a second to admire him: his chest rose and fell rapidly, his abs were still just as defined as you remembered, and the small scars across his chest only reminded you of every war he'd survived. you'd always found every reminder of his bravery written into his skin unbearably attractive.
"you're still so pretty," you slid your hands up to his shoulders, kissing him again. you felt his smile against your lips while his hands slipped beneath your dress. "let me see you," he growled impatiently, already pulling down the zipper of your dress until you were left in nothing but your panties and bra.
his lips attacked your neck, finding the exact spot he knew made you moan. he made sure to leave little marks against your skin, reminders of who you belonged to, and meanwhile you couldn't stop grinding your hips against his searching for relief.
he groaned at the way you moved against him, and his fingers quickly unclasped your bra. "so so pretty, my love," he admired your chest, and you blushed at the nickname. it felt so good hearing him call you that again.
his tongue circled one of your nipples while he looked up at you through his lashes, your fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close. his thumb pressed against your clit over your panties. "harry..." you whimpered when he switched his attention to your other breast.
"you're so wet—fuck, i need you," he groaned before kissing you again, pulling another moan from you.
he turned you over, positioning himself between your legs, and your hands immediately reached for his pants to tug them down. he was faster, already sliding your panties down your legs.
you let your head fall back against the pillow when his fingers touched you directly. he slipped one inside you while his thumb kept rubbing your clit, preparing you for him
"god, look at you..." a disheveled harry, with almost black eyes and a flushed face, murmured to you. you could come just by looking at him.
"please," you whined. the moment the word left your lips, the rest of his clothes were already tossed beside the bed.
his hands rubbed your thighs while his tip, already with pre-cum, rested against your entrance. "ready?" he asked, and you nodded. he pushed into you slowly, letting you take it at your own pace.
"oh my—," a shaky sigh left your lips as you felt him stretch you open. he groaned. "you feel s'good," he praised, pressing a kiss to each of your cheeks. you relaxed a little more.
your eyes drifted down to where your bodies were joined when he started moving, and he noticed.
he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. "look at me. i want to see your face while i make you mine," you whimpered at his words, feeling his pace start to grow faster and deeper.
"'m already yours," your nails digging into his shoulders. his response was a groan that made you tighten around him even more—you could've come just from hearing him and those sweet noises he made.
his lips crashed against yours in a messy kiss, both of you desperate for each other.
"yeah? my pretty girl, only mine," he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck before finding your lips again. all you could do was nod weakly, completely lost in him.
"missed you, missed this," he admitted. he was trying to stay gentle, gentlemanly even, but he'd needed you so badly during the time you'd been apart that he couldn't stop himself from getting a little rougher. he'd grabbed one of your legs and folded it back, opening you wider for him.
"me too—fuck, me too," you practically cried out. you were a mess.
his finger found your clit again, making your legs begin to tremble from the stimulation. curses spilled from your lips, letting harry know you were close.
"come f'me, y/n. let me feel you,"
your mind went blank, a crushing wave of pleasure washing through your whole body. you clung to him and heard him groan against you before feeling his warmth fill you.
harry buried his face in your neck, his body collapsing against yours. for some minutes the only noise in the room were your breaths.
"i love you," he whispered, barely audible, against your skin.
Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter
Summary:
Harry wishes that Hermione would just relax. Just because he doesn't know the exact source of a hand-written spell in an old textbook doesn't mean that it's completely evil.
Intent to prove her wrong, he dawns his Invisibility Cloak and sneaks off to the Restricted Section of the library, looking for a more solid source of that spell - and he completely forgets everything that he set out to do when he finds Hermione along the way, doing something (or rather, someone) in a secluded corner of the library that is definitely not studying. (Something that he'll never be able to get out of his mind ever again.)
Hermione Granger x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader x Harry Potter. Accidental Voyeurism upon an Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Half-Blood Prince.
Word Count: 4,400
Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this fic is primarily smut focused; there is some very vague plot - Harry and Hermione have an argument because Hermione doesn't like the Half-Blood Prince's book and wants Harry to get rid of it (and they are still not on good terms when the smutty stuff comes up); passing mention of a hex that gives you boils that never heal; the primary pairing in this fic is between Hermione and the reader, and Harry spies on them having sex using his Invisibility Cloak - that does mean that this fic has dubious consent and dubious morality, because Harry never asks for their permission to watch and never reveals himself to them, and during the course of this fic they also don't find out that he's there (if this is the kind of thing that makes you uncomfortable, then I would recommend moving on to one of my other fics); the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; the reader's looks - including race, hair colour, skin tone, etc. are not described in anyway; there is use of Y/N in this fic; the reader is a Gryffindor in this fic (I wanted her to be closer with Hermione, sharing a dorm with her, and be closer to the trio in general); Harry has had a crush on the reader for a while before this, but this is the first time he views Hermione sexually past his platonic friendship feelings for her; accidental voyeurism - Harry does not intend to spy on the girls, but once he discovers them, he doesn't stop watching; semi-public sex - Hermione and the reader are fucking in the library, but they are fucking in a much more secluded part of the library where Hermione knows that someone is less likely to discover them; there is some sub/dom dynamics - Hermione and the reader having a pre-existing sub/dom relationship where Hermione is very dominant and the reader is submissive, and Harry is understanding those dynamics as he observes them; Hermione calls the reader: little girl (not as indication of her size, but as a form of degradation and condescension), little bitch, little whore, slutty, brat, darling,; Hermione demands to be called 'Mistress'; Harry is a switch - he imagines himself as both dominant and submissive in his fantasies; (Harry as a 'sir' kink in his fantasies); mentions of creampie kink (one of Harry's fantasies); Hermione is very mean and condescending toward the reader; brat taming/punishment and reward - the reader has 'misbehaved' and Hermione seeks to correct it; degradation kink (towards the reader); Hermione fingers the reader; Hermione uses the reader's tie like a leash; lots of dirty talk (from Hermione); Harry considers masturbating but does not (because he fears getting caught) (and there is a mention of him masturbating to thoughts of what happened in a more private space afterwards); pussy spanking/clit spanking (from Hermione towards reader) and ass spanking (towards reader - just once) (no severe pain kink); orgasm denial (towards the reader); I believe that's it.
A/N: This was such a random idea that zapped into my head that demanded to be written. People were asking for Hermione x Fem!Reader smut and it was something I really wanted to do, but I only really felt inspired to do it when it occurred to me to write Hermione through Harry's eyes. To talk about her going from this very non-sexual being to someone so sexually powerful in his eyes - it was something really fun. And I am so glad I actually managed to squeeze this one in and finish it before the poll for the other fic finished up. I feel like this is such a fun, Harry Potter based idea that uses themes and elements unique to the series. And it's wonderful, filthy horny smut. So I hope that you guys enjoy!!
...
Harry really didn’t understand Hermione sometimes.
She was an amazing friend, someone that he wouldn’t trade for the world - someone so wonderfully loyal, smart, and fun to be around during the times when she let herself actually relax and untense. But during the times when she had that intensely large stick up her arse, she could be the biggest pain in the world. Sometimes, it was like she stayed up late in her dormitory, just thinking of ways to drive Harry and Ron utterly mad.
Yes, Harry knew that his particular fascination with the Half-Blood Prince’s book was not exactly… normal. But Hermione’s attachment to a lot of her books was never normal either. And just because the book was old didn’t mean that it was bad. Just because Harry was fascinated by it didn’t mean that there would be negative consequences.
There was no reason for her to go off on a long tangent about ‘dark magic’ and ‘the Latin origins of spells’ when he had asked her about a hand-written spell that was in the book. Something that spiralled into a huge argument between the two of them when he refused to hand over the Prince’s book once she had asked him where he had gotten the spell. To her, it was something that sounded very dangerous, and she complained that therefore, the whole book was dangerous. He complained that she had a knot in her knickers because he had just been asking if she knew what the spell was or not, if she had heard of it before - it’s not like he had any intentions of actually using it.
And then Hermione had warned him that he should simply throw the book away and he told her that she was just jealous that he was actually getting better grades than her in a class for once, and the night ended with her huffing off to bed and stomping up the stairs - and the two of them hadn’t spoken in over a day because of it. Ron was nagging both of them to make-up - but Harry was chuffed, honestly. For once, Ron knew what it felt like to be between two feuding friends, trying to mend the fences.
Harry wasn’t going to apologise.
Hermione wasn’t the queen of everything. She couldn’t just demand things from him and expect him to follow suit. He had his own brain, despite what she thought, and he could make his own judgements. Harry had no plans to use the spell if Hermione thought it was dangerous, and he had just been asking about it out of curiosity. But he was more peeved that it led to her demanding that he throw the book away or destroy it, like she held some authority over him, like she was his damn mother or something.
This left Harry stewing in his annoyance as he made his way to the Restricted Section of the library the next night. He was still curious if the spell had any other known origins - another spell book, some kind of book about dark magic. Hell, he would revert to a Latin textbook if he was desperate, just to get a leg-up without directly asking Hermione. But he was headed to the Restricted Section first - because as much as she was annoying, Hermione usually was right.
He was feeling confident and perhaps a bit cocky to find the source of the spell and wield some more knowledge over her that she didn’t have. For once.
Harry had dawned his Invisibility Cloak for this task, of course. It wasn’t past curfew yet, but the library was about ten minutes from closing, and he knew that it would be easier to sneak in before Madame Pince locked up and stay there well after dark, taking his time in order to find what he needed. And any trip to the Restricted Section without a note from a professor giving permission required such a disguise.
The library was practically deserted due to the late hour - most students having wandered off to bed like good rule followers. Harry wasn’t surprised when he heard a particular, familiar voice coming from an isolated area of small desks study carols back between a few towering book cases. Of course, she would think that this would be the perfect place to get her work done, undisturbed. He couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes when he heard that voice taking on her usual scolding, bossy tone.
“I am not at all pleased with you, you know that?”
It was Hermione.
Harry knew for a fact that Ron was in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, his face unpleasantly glued to Lavender’s once again, so he wasn’t the one in the path of Hermione’s wrath this time. Harry had to wonder who exactly had come on the other end of her up-tight, nosy fortitude.
He had seen Hermione usher you off to the library after class earlier that afternoon, saying something about the mark on your last Transfiguration essay being ‘far below your usual standard’, and talking about how you ‘needed to follow her study schedule more closely’ - and Harry had felt sorry for you at the time, if anything. The fact that you would have Hermione hovering over your shoulder, bothering you all afternoon, marking all your work and making you redo it to her incredibly high standards.
Sometimes, he felt sorry for the fact that you had to share a dorm with her. That you couldn’t escape Hermione even for a peaceful night of slumber.
But surely the two of you hadn’t spent this long in the library together. Even you wouldn’t take three or four hours to do your homework up to Hermione’s standards. She would have freed you by now - and with any luck, you would be off somewhere, snogging some lucky bloke - (Harry couldn’t let that particular train of jealous thought get to him right now).
“Little girl, am I going to have to get mean with you?”
Hermione’s voice came again, just as bitter as usual, and then it clicked with Harry.
No, it wasn’t you, perhaps Hermione was taking out her anger on a couple of First Years for not doing their homework, getting on the wrong end of Hermione’s ill-guided Prefect power that she wielded like a presidency. Harry held back a scoff of laughter, and he couldn’t help the urge to move toward the sound of her voice, eager to see what exactly was going on.
“Stop being such a whiny little bitch - you asked for this. Now shut up and take it like a good little whore.”
Those words - those words in Hermione’s voice - immediately smacked Harry in the face harder than any stunning curse ever could have. He craned his neck around the bookcase in front of him so hard to see what was happening that he harshly smacked one of his shoulders, nearly giving himself away with the noise and having to strangle down his cry of pain in order not to be caught.
However, after a moment, he came around the corner completely and rested against the bookcase comfortably as his eyes took in the utterly unbelievable sight at the other end of the aisle.
Holy fuck.
Holy… fuck.
It was you.
You and Hermione. Hermione and you.
You and Hermione looking like some sort of unbelievable pornographic dream.
Hermione had you pressed up against a desk, your legs spread wide for her with your arse just balanced on the edge of the table while she stood between them - it took Harry’s very stunned brain a moment to process it, but he realised that her arm working furiously between your thighs like that, pistoning back and forth while you spread your legs wider and leaned into the touch could only mean one thing.
She was finger-fucking your pussy.
Harry had no clue how he hadn’t picked up on the other sounds previously, especially not in the dead quiet of the library. But it was blatantly fucking clear to his ears now. The sound of your wetness sliding against her fingers, so beautifully sloppy - he could only imagine how slick you were, how pretty your cunt looked around her fingers, which were usually only meant for gripping quills or turning the pages in her next book. Along with your repressed moans, barely caught in your chest where you were biting your lip raw, clearly trying your best to stay quiet - the sounds coming out, as Hermione had described them: whines, as though you were a needy bitch in heat.
Harry was in utter shock.
Never, in a thousand years, would ever have imagined Hermione Granger looking at you with crazed heat in her eyes, her stern brow and disappointed frown somehow so perfectly fitting for the situation. Scolding you in her bossy voice while she held on tight to your Gryffindor tie like a leash, keeping your posture tight and straight as she finger-fucked you in the most rough, harsh way that Harry could have ever pictured.
Hermione - uptight, bookish, rule-bound Hermione - fucking you in the library where anybody could have caught the two of you. It seemed so wildly unimaginable, and yet - when more scolding words came out of her lips in that bossy tone, it seemed… so terribly fitting for her.
“You’ve been such a naughty girl, haven’t you?” Hermione breathed hotly, giving another harsh tug on your tie that made you whine deeply in the back of your throat.
Harry swore the sound of her fingers jabbing between your legs became even wetter, sloppier sounding. So you liked being called naughty.
“Yes, I have-” You whined out, and Hermione tugged the tie again, cutting off anything further that you had to say with a harsh jolt.
Harry’s cock snapped to attention at an alarmingly fast rate, the blood rushing into his prick so quickly that it almost made him dizzy. The moral contention of watching two of his good friends go at it didn’t really cross his mind at all (perhaps his morality was going a bit too grey, using an old marked up book to ‘cheat’ in his classes these days). But he knew that wanking would be a bad idea simply based on the fact that he would have a difficult time staying quiet. So he reached down and squeezed the bulge in his trousers, gaining little relief from this as he looked on. He likely wouldn’t have been able to pull his eyes away if Voldemort himself showed up and demanded it.
“Such a naughty little bitch - you can’t even go one afternoon without having your slutty cunt filled, can you?” Hermione demanded, her words seemingly growing filthier by the second.
“I need it.” You moaned, arching into her further, as though you were possessed.
Harry would have wondered if she had been replaced by someone else, or bewitched - but you seemed to love it, loved everything she was saying. She seemed to be playing into a knowledge of your kinks, things that she knew would make you weaker and more lustful in her hands. Which was so Hermione that it was painful. Studying for something, keeping a backlog of useful knowledge.
Harry just never would have guessed that she would have used her big brain for this.
What made matters even more dizzying and shocking - this was Hermione and you. A pair he never would have thought up that also somehow made so much sense. Now, every single time the two of you snuck off giggling and Harry thought that it was just something girlish that he didn’t understand - he had to wonder what the two of you had been doing.
The fact that Hermione had been Viktor Krum’s date to the Yule Ball and you had been Harry’s, but you and Hermione had been glued to each other all night made a lot more sense. Every single time the two of you walked to class together holding hands, every single time you showed up to the Gryffindor table with some kind of glaring love mark on your neck and Ginny or someone else asked you about it and Hermione had laughed when you named off a different boy from a different house - it all made strange sense in Harry’s eyes.
This was you - one of the hottest, most sought-after girls at Hogwarts. The star of every single one of Harry’s wanking fantasies since you had given him a pity kiss under some mistletoe after a DA meeting. (He had a feeling that Hermione would be sneaking into those fantasies too, now, as much as he had tried to keep her out on the grounds that it would be rude to wank to his best friend). You, someone who was so gorgeous and so desirable and somehow never seemed to have a long-term boyfriend, as often as guys asked you on dates, and as often as you claimed to like certain boys and even flirted with them.
Apparently Hermione had been keeping you on a leash this whole time. A tight leash - just like the way she was holding your tie, keeping you close, keeping you waiting with baited breath for her next move.
“Mione-” You breathed out in return, a slight begging in your voice that had Harry light-headed in seconds.
This was better than any fantasy he could have dreamt up.
“Ah-ah. Hush, little girl.” Hermione fired back, that bossy condescending she always used somehow sounding all the more perfect in this context. “You’ve been such a proper brat all day, and you’re going to take what I give you, understand?”
You nodded your head (as much as you could with the hold she had on you) and made a noise of affirmation. But Hermione gave another sharp tug on your tie, clearly displeased with this.
“Come on, use your words now. Be a good girl.” She ordered sharply, the only thing giving away what must have been her own arousal being a slight hint of breath on her voice. Otherwise, she was entirely proper - not a single wrinkle in her impeccable uniform, her face entirely straight and firm as she stared you down with sharp eyes.
“Yes, Mione-”
“No, darling. Wrong again.”
Hermione hauled her hand back, creating another loud wet sound as she hauled her fingers out of your pussy entirely. Harry harshly craned his neck again, and it was only then that it truly occurred to him, between his dizzy head, his cement legs and his hard cock painful against his pelvis, protesting wildly against his zipper, that he could actually move closer to get a better look. With his Cloak guarding him, he would not be seen.
He tried his best not to rush, not to make too much noise especially as he got closer, and he almost scolded himself when he nearly missed out on it - the wet smack as Hermione brought her hand down between your thighs. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have guessed that she had so boldly laid two rapid spanks right across your swollen, needy clit. Your skirt flipped up out of the way, no panties in sight, and giving her all the room in the world to do so.
You harshly bit down on your own lip again, worrying the skin to the point where it was swollen and looked like it might even bruise, dampening down harsh cries from deep within your chest. Before Harry could worry that the tears pooling in your eyes had meant that Hermione had truly hurt you, you spread your legs wider and canted your hips more toward her, offering your body up for more.
And then, you opened your lips again, seemingly to obey whatever implicit command she had given you with the spanks.
“Yes, Mistress.” You choked out, putting stress on the title, as if correcting your earlier self. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl.” Hermione replied, more breath this time as she used your tie to pull you into a heated kiss, and then shoved three firm fingers back into your waiting, leaking cunt.
Harry’s head was spinning.
He had never seen anything more beautiful and erotic in his life (not even when Fred and George had shown him and Ron those Wonder Witch magazines - no, this was much hotter and more perfect because it was so real).
His mind was spinning with a unique kind of jealousy, something that told him that he was sure if he wanted to steal you away from Hermione because he thought he could - because he now knew all of your sexual preferences and he would use that information to play you, to do everything she was doing to you and more. He would make you the perfect horny little puppet on his painful, throbbing cock (he gave himself another squeeze through his trousers, suppressing a moan of his own). He would have you calling him ‘Sir’ and begging for his cock in no time, because you needed it - you needed to have your holes filled and you would fucking love it.
Or if he wanted Hermione playing him like this - tugging on his hair, guiding him around by his tie like he was nothing more than a wretched dog, needing to be tamed. Wanted her using that bossy voice of hers to give him completely different kinds of orders - forcing him onto his knees to eat her cunt until she was satisfied, and - knowing her - she never would be.
Harry’s mind flashed with an image of him on his knees before you, his head so perfectly framed by your plush thighs, with Hermione behind him, barking orders in his ear, a tight grip on his hair as she shoved him tighter into your perfect, messy, wet pussy. He decided that was it - that was exactly what he wanted. That would be the vision that haunted his dreams from now on.
It was something that had him leaking enough precum to stain through to the outside of his pants, especially by the time your voice warbled out brokenly against Hermione’s chin, your thighs starting to shake, and Harry was sure that he would get the treat of seeing you cum on her fingers.
He was sorely disappointed by what happened next.
Hermione pulled back from you completely, creating another deadly wet sound as she pulled her fingers from your cunt once again - something that was almost drowned out by the pitched, disappointed whine that you let out.
“Mione-!” You complained sharply, the nickname almost coming out as a sob from the back of your throat.
You sat frozen on the edge of the desk, your legs spread wide as you stared Hermione down with glassy, disappointed eyes while she stepped back and grabbed a handkerchief from her bag that was sitting on a table opposite and used it to wipe off her glistening fingers.
Harry rushed to get a better look at your cunt before you closed your legs, and Merlin - it was magnificent. Swollen and puffed from Hermione’s efforts, coated in your wetness, your clit stuck out from the hood and standing at attention, so damn needy, begging to be touched, your hole slightly gaped from where Hermione’s fingers had been.
(Harry couldn’t help but to imagine how stretched you would be left by the thickness of his cock, how good you would look leaking with his cum…)
“What did you expect?” Hermione said sharply, the edge of a sarcastic laugh on her voice. She was firm, not giving in to the pout that you were giving her.
“You’ve been bratting up all day - I could have excused you flirting with Malfoy all through potions class-” She continued.
Harry had noticed that too. He had simply thought that Malfoy would be your next conquest, not a simple flirtation to get on Hermione’s nerves.
“If not for the fact that you didn’t finish any of your homework and you then decided to distract me from doing mine all afternoon.”
Of course. Hermione doling out sexual punishments for not doing homework.
Some things are just nature.
Though, Harry knew, if there was one thing that would motivate him to do his essays - it would be the idea of getting to cum.
“Of course you don’t get to cum, you stupid whore.” Hermione said these words how she said many things - as a final, finite declaration that was law.
Hearing her speak such filthy words in such an authoritative (and nearly emotionless) voice almost caused Harry to cum in his pants on the spot. Almost.
You let out a sigh of defeat and finally closed your legs, hopping off the desk and pulling down your skirt. Obviously, you hadn’t been wearing panties at all that day (which was another thought that would haunt Harry’s wet dreams) because you made no move to find a pair and put them back on. Instead, you simply turned around and gathered some of your books that were farther back on the desk.
“How long?” You asked Hermione tentatively, glancing over your shoulder at her.
Perhaps meaning - how long would she be angry with you? How long until she would finally allow you to cum?
Harry’s stomach lurched - he imagined himself finding you in the hallway and pinning you against the wall, flipping up your skirt and finding your still wet, bare cunt, teasing you with his fingers and promising to give you everything that you needed as long as you surrendered yourself to him. He would let you cum - he would make you cum so many times that you would cry and beg for him to stop. And he would leave you tired, satisfied and gaped with his cum dripping from all your pretty holes.
Perhaps it would be rude and underhanded to go after you simply based on a void that Hermione had left in you - but Harry was still feeling a bit of a petty sting from their argument the night before.
Hermione stepped toward you again - careful, calculated, like a predator observing its prey. She put her hands on either side of your waist, and leaned forward to whisper something in your ear that Harry barely caught.
“For as long as I want, naughty girl.” She told you. “You’ll take what you get, and you’ll like it, you understand me?”
“Yes, Mistress.” You sighed loyally in return. Though your face was knit with a unique displeasure - clearly, you were still aching to cum.
“And if I think for a moment that you have been touching your little whore cunt without my permission, I will spank you until every single person in Hogwarts hears you scream my name - understood?”
She topped this off with a sharp spank across your ass, using her free hand to hold the fabric of your skirt out of the way to make sure it was nothing but free, burning, skin on skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, and began nodding furiously.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.” Hermione told you. “Now, off to bed.”
You began to walk off, but you hesitantly looked back over your shoulder, as if waiting for her to follow.
“I’ll be along in a few minutes. I have to sort out some more books for tomorrow. Since I now have so much to catch up on.” She added the last part with a bit of snark, and you rolled your eyes, turning around and walking.
Unfortunately, you abruptly headed in Harry’s direction and his stomach tightly clenched - he moved to press himself tightly into the bookcase, praying that you wouldn’t bump into him.
Perhaps you felt him move, or you simply felt something… off, but you paused for a moment, and stared harshly at the space where Harry was standing. His heart began to beat hard inside of his throat, and he wondered how fast he would be able to run with his cock so uncomfortably stiff inside of his pants. You kept staring, as though you were expecting something to materialise out of thin air.
“Y/N, go.” Hermione snapped. “Go on, it’s almost curfew.”
“Yes, Miss Prefect, I’m going.” You sighed sarcastically in return, and walked off.
Harry had a hard time not loudly gulping in air - not realising how harshly he had been holding his breath.
He stayed there for a few more minutes and continued to watch Hermione.
Jarringly, she was still so much of the usual Hermione. She was still absolutely someone that he knew so well, despite the secret sex persona that she had been hiding. Still biting at the skin around her nails as she concentrated on a thought, still fussing over which books to take, and still leaving the library with more of an armful than she could comfortably carry. Still somehow forgetting that she could just use magic to lug all the books to the Gryffindor common room instead of tiring out her arms - and Harry only fitfully realised now that this was only half her arm workout, and fucking your cunt raw must have been the other half.
The whole time he stood there, Harry had considered revealing himself to her.
He thought about begging to be let in on what the two of you had, even if he had to do something horrible to earn it first, to be worthy in her eyes - something like licking her shoes or wanking in front of her just to be ‘even’. But he knew that she would see the spying (even if unintentional) as a violation of trust, as something too creepy to be redeemed. She would probably hex him to hell and back, make him grow boils that would break open and bleed and never properly heal for the rest of his life - just for thinking about spying on her like that.
So Harry knew that he had to keep this whole thing a secret, keep it close to his chest. He could never, ever speak about it to anyone.
Harry forgot all about the book he had wanted. And, instead of going back to the Gryffindor common room behind Hermione, he took his aching cock to the Prefect’s Bathroom in an attempt to clear his mind. After making himself cum not once, but three different times, he finally settled into the hot water for a nice, long soak. He thought about it, and he realised that he was properly fucked - because he would never be able to look at you or Hermione in the same way again.
...
A/N: This is a oneshot, and at this current time, there is not going to be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. I might be open to writing a second part to this, but I don't have any current plans to do so and right now, it is not on my schedule. For now, if you are going to leave a comment on this fic, please leave a comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more Harry Potter fics that I have written, definitely check out my Harry Potter masterlist.
summary ☞ It all crumbled down. Tradition, beliefs, reputation, family. Nothing got spared. It all crumbled down, because of one, fateful moment. The Sorting. Gryffindor. Chaos.
word count ☞ 1.2k+
warnings ☞ angst, hurt/no comfort, kinda a new genre cos it's not really angst but there's no comfort either, Lucius' A+ parenting, blood supremacists' beliefs, no dialogues.
mene's notes ☞ previously posted on @/selenewowww. i love star-crossed lovers kinda trope. i want harry. so fun writing.
dividers by ☞ @cursed-carmine, @cafekitsune
Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. Toujours Pur.
Purity Always Conquers. Always Pure.
The two unyielding, unwreckable marble columns the House of the Malfoy based themselves on. The true fundamentals of their whole education, their whole thinking. Them whole.
Narcissa Malfoy née Black. A respectable and most importantly elegant woman, raised under the iron fist and scrutiny of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The epitome of elegance, properness and the ideal pureblood woman.
Lucius Malfoy. Son and heir to Abraxas Malfoy, one of the most influential families of all Britain. Him, too, was a magnificent example of pureblood man. He had power, he had powerful allies. Was ranked high in the Ministry of Magic.
Centuries of blood purity, power, money and reputation passed over their children. Draco Lucius Malfoy and his twin sister. Their futures had already been written and planned way before their birth. They were expected to continue the tradition, to uphold the family reputation. To surpass their ancestors, even. And that, of course, came with strict rules, made to preserve the Malfoy prestige.
In any situation, no associations with muggle–borns and half–bloods. The two often united under one same category: Mudbloods. The disgrace to the wizard society, that the superior race had yet to demolish. And since no one had succeeded in doing so in the past, they had to do everything in their power to aid the one courageous wizard that was putting himself on the line.
The Malfoys, loyal followers of the feared Tom Marvolo Riddle. You–Know–Who, He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named, the Dark Lord. He had many names, and every single one held every wizard by the neck, slowly choking and dying.
Yet, the two columns of the family of the Malfoys unexpectedly crumbled down on the first of September of 1991. Their beliefs shattered like glass beads the moment their female heir was sorted into Gryffondor. It was an unspoken rule between the Sacred Twenty–Eight. Get sorted in Salazar's Slytherin house. There wasn't another choice. Either in Slytherin, or in Slytherin.
Nevertheless, their only daughter had accomplished the impossible. Few before her wore a red tie in her family, and none had a happy ending. Sirius Orion Black the Third. Burned off the family tapestry, erased from their memory and from the fund, disowned.
While others, like Andromeda and Cedrella Black. Blasted off and disowned for marrying respectively a muggle and a blood traitor. No mercy was reserved for who was to transgress the pureblood rules.
Would the same fate befall her? Would she be scrutinized over something she couldn't control?
She was never quite like her family. Never quite like her brother. She did what she had to, head down and quiet. However, in the intimacy of the deepest place of her heart, she knew she was different. And she was proven right when she parted from her brother to stand with the red lions.
Silence followed. No arguments, no shouts. Silence. The kind that creeps in your bones, cold shivers constantly running down the back, down to her feet. Displeased looks on her parents’ porcelain faces, the slightest frowns whenever she was in the room. Utter disgust from her brother, Draco. Sneers and insults were the only way he'd acknowledge her ever since.
From her housemates, too, uncomfortable stares and silence arrived. The older ones made no move to acknowledge her presence in the common room. The younger ones avoided her like the plague. Inside the Gryffindor Tower, whispers of her being an outcast flowed every night and day. Her family were all poisonous snakes, uptight and racist. Following their reasoning, she must have been one too.
And for the first three years of Hogwarts, she was alone. Truly alone. Not a single student had tried to give her a chance, to prove herself different. And she was certain of it. She wasn't like them.
Then, came Fourth Year with the Triwizard Tournament and the Yule Ball. With Harry Potter being roped into participating, despite being underage, and the threat of Death looming over their heads, every day closer than ever.
This was the year she got her first, true friends. The Golden Trio, unexpectedly. They had been trying to help Harry decipher the Egg’s clue, digging into every possible book they could find that vaguely talked about screeching sounds. And that's where the Malfoy female heir came into the picture. She had been the one to suggest it was the merpeople language, to their surprise. And to their further surprise, she had been right all along, and Harry was able to get the clue for the second task.
That help was what made her part of the group. The Golden Quartet. Many looked upon them, sending them confused or weirded out glances. It's not everyday you see a Malfoy willingly befriending muggle–borns, blood traitors and half–bloods. Indeed, Hogwarts wasn't used to see a platinum head running around with Potter, Weasley and Granger.
Hermione, even if a tad hesitant at first, had become her best friend. Being the only girls, brought them closer and made them confidants. They lended notes, swapped essays and occasionally helped each other out with more feminine problems.
With Ron, it was pretty rocky in the first period. He was the one who knew better how her whole family acted, and thought of his family. It was difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that she wasn't like them at all. Perhaps, the only thing she picked up was the etiquette expected from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. But once he got to terms with it, to him she was just like everyone else. One of his best friends.
Harry, though… They were friends, alright. However, in their group there was this unspoken thing that they were something more. The fleeting glances, the caring acts and jokes went over friendship. Ron, Hermione, and even them knew it. It was just never brought up.
Except on the Yule Ball night. Harry had invited her, in need of a partner to open the dance with, as one of the champions. And she had been the obvious choice. Though, not the first one. Only after Ron’s encouragement– that sounded more like complaints to Harry– he had given in and asked her to be his date.
The night had been one of her favorites in her whole life. Alright, Harry had stomped over her heels a couple of times, but he apologised with one of his lopsided awkward grins, and she knew she couldn't hold him accountable. That night, too, had been the first time they've talked about their special friendship. The conversation was short–lived, only coming to the conclusion that they were the only ones for each other before sharing a shy, first kiss.
Things only escalated from that time onward. She and Harry never went official. Until sixth year, when they realised that Hogwarts and London were becoming a dark place, with little hope left for wizards. Indeed, her ancestors' dream was on the right path to become real.
Sixth Year was also the year she had been dreading for since eleven. Her disownment. Harry Potter being her boyfriend had been the straw that broke the camel's back for her parents, on top of refusing the Dark Mark.
And though, a Potter and a Malfoy were united by love. A half-blood and a pureblood. Star–crossed lover. Romeo and Juliet.
The Wizarding World was on its way to end. Pureblood supremacy had the upper hand. The Dark Lord had it in his grasp once again.
p: harry j potter x fem! reader
w: unprotected SMUT (p in v, wrap before you tap), oral (fem receiving), fingering, kinda fluff, dom! harry, harry has a private dorm cause yea
summary: after a long quidditch practice, harry enters his dorm to find his girlfriend wearing something of his.
a/n: trying to write smut. sorry if its not the greatest. this has been sitting in the drafts for a good minute so i decided to get it out in honor of harry's birthday recently <3
Harry was returning to his dorm after a very long and tiring quidditch practice. The first game was right around the corner and it was against the Slytherins, so Harry had to make sure they were prepared.
All Harry was focused on now was seeing his girlfriend, who is currently waiting for him in his private dorm. They haven't been able to spend time together with Harry's quidditch practices, (Y/N)'s tutoring sessions with the younger years and NEWT classes.
Harry had finally gotten to his dorm room. He lightly knocked it before opening the door and entering.
"(Y/N) love, I'm here," Harry said as he sets down his stuff by the door.
The moment Harry looked up, he was graced with a stunning view, one he wasn't expecting.
(Y/N) sat on his bed reading her charms book. But it was what she was wearing that caught the boy off guard. She was in a white button up, but not just any white button up. It was one of his from his trunk. It was slightly big, hanging off one of her shoulders, exposing the soft skin.
"Oh, hey Harry," (Y/N) responded once taking notice of the boy.
The girl had set the book down on the bed before getting up to greet the boy. Harry stood still, mesmerized by the little clothing on his girlfriend's body. He could feel the blood rushing to his crotch.
"Is that mine?" He questioned, despite knowing the answer.
(Y/N) felt her face get warmer. "Oh, yeah. I just decided to get more comfy while I wait for you. I can change back if you want."
"No no!" Harry responded. "I was just a little shocked that's all."
"You sure?"
"Yes," said Harry as he placed his hands are her waist. "Besides, I think it looks better on you than me."
A small giggle slipped out of (Y/N)'s mouth. "Oh, you think so?"
"I know so."
(Y/N) begun leaning closer to Harry, much to his delight. He followed, meeting her in the middle as their lips touch. (Y/N)'s hands move up to wrap around Harry's neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss. His hold on her tightened a bit, not wanting to let go.
Unfortunately for Harry, (Y/N) was the first to break the kiss.
"So, what did you want to do?" She asked him. "I can help you with your homework since I already finished mine."
"I have a better idea," Harry said, rubbing her waist.
"Oh? What is it?"
"This."
The boy pulled her back into a kiss, his hands gripping her waist. Harry slid one of his hands down to her ass, squeezing it. The feeling made her gasp, allowing Harry to slide his tongue into her mouth. The two began fighting for dominance, but like always, Harry would win.
Harry broke the kiss, leading (Y/N) to lay on his bed. He climbs above her, one of his hands hovering over the buttons of her (his) shirt. He looks at her, gazing into her sparkling eyes.
"May I?"
"You may," she assures him.
Harry unbuttons the shirt on (Y/N)'s body. Once he buttoned the last button, he moves each side of the shirt, revealing what was underneath. His green eyes ogling at her breasts, he brought has hands up to cup them before he knead them.
"You like this?" Harry asked her, knowing she did.
Harry leans down and takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it while his hand tweak the other one. A small noise falls from her mouth. He felt her hands move up to his dark hair, slightly tugging on it. Now that's how Harry knows that he's making her feel good.
He switches, making sure each one gets attention (as well as purple bruises). He began moving down towards her cunt, covered in lace panties.
Harry looks up at (Y/N), silently asking if he could continue. She nods. The boy hooked his fingers under her panties and slid them off her legs.
"Look at you," Harry groans. "All wet for me."
The boy stuck his tongue out, dragging it up her cunt. The taste of her had invaded his senses.
"And you taste so good."
Harry proceeded to stick a finger inside her and begins to suck at her clit. The feeling was all too good to (Y/N), who was starting to reach her high as Harry was eating her out.
"Harry, I'm gonna-"
But the boy pulled away before she could climax, which left her a bit frustrated.
"What'd you do that for?"
Harry smirked. "Can't let you cum yet. Gotta wait 'til I'm in you."
The girl whined as she pulsed around nothing. "Well what are you waiting for then?"
The boy climbed back over her, a mischievous grin plastered on his face as his green eyes examined her.
"Beg."
"What?" (Y/N) was confused.
"I want you to beg for it."
The girl huffed. "As if-" Her words were caught in her mouth as she left Harry's fingers plunge back inside her.
"Tell me what you want." Harry demanded as he slowly moved his fingers. "Or else I'll leave you be and you can make yourself cum."
(Y/N) pouted, deciding to swallow her pride for her pleasure.
"Please Harry." She says as she tugs on the waistband of his pants. "I want you to make me come. I want to feel you inside me."
"Yea?"
"Harry," she whines out. "Please."
"Help me take these off then," Harry tells her, referring to his pants.
The girl clumsily pulls down Harry's pants and boxers, the latter helping her in removing them entirely. He removed his quidditch sweater, returning to his position on top of her. As (Y/N) looked up at her boyfriend's green eyes, they seemed to soften upon her gaze.
"You sure you want this?" Harry asks her.
(Y/N) nods. "I do Harry."
He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip against her wetness before pushing in. (Y/N) winced at the slight pain, which caused Harry to stop and look up at her.
"You alright? We can stop if you want to."
"No! I'm alright, you can keep going."
After being reassured, Harry continue to push in until he was completely inside her. He lets out a groan as he feels her pulse around him.
"Bloody hell, you're so tight," Harry says to her. "Feels so good."
Harry begins to thrust into her, slowly but deep. A moan slips from (Y/N)'s mouth, boosting his ego. Harry grabs the back of (Y/N)'s legs, wrapping them around him before he started to move faster. The sensation causing (Y/N) to arch her back, her chest pressing against Harry's. Her hands were wrapped around his back, clawing against it.
(Y/N) brought one of her hands downward, playing with her clit. Harry took notice of this and grabbed her hand, pinning it above her head. The action caused her to gasp.
"Only I get to touch it this time." Harry said to her.
He kept one of his hands pinning (Y/N)'s above her hand as his other one went back down to where the girl originally had hers. The feeling had (Y/N) closer to her high. It was too good.
"Harry, I think I'm gonna cum."
"Shit, I think I am too."
Harry's movements became faster and sloppier as the two reached their climax. (Y/N) was the first to let go, cumming around Harry's cock.
Harry quickly pulled out, pumping himself and letting his cum spill onto (Y/N)'s stomach. He stayed above her for a moment, admiring the view in front of him. His girlfriend covered in his cum as she is recovering from her high. Such a pretty sight to see.
"You're alright?" Harry asks (Y/N).
She responds with a nod. "Yea, I'm alright."
Harry smiles, kissing her forehead. "I'll be back then."
He moved away to grab a damp cloth from his connecting washroom, helping to clean up the mess he left on her. Once the two were cleaned up, they laid back on Harry's bed, his arms wrapped around his girl as he kissed her lips.
"You know," Harry began. "You should wear my stuff more often."
"Oh really?" (Y/N) asked. "Does that mean we'll get more moments like this?"
"Maybe."
The girl giggled before a yawn slipped her mouth.
"You should rest now darling."
She nods, shifting herself to be more comfortable.
"I love you Harry."
"I love you too, (Y/N)," He said to her as he joins her in a much needed rest.
(Chewing through the bars of my metal enclosure) of COURSE you can have more!
Harry whisper things in your ear even when you’re alone. Things he could have easily said out loud. He’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist just to whisper something like “I’m going to the store, do you need anything?”
Harry’s always watching you but not in a creepy stalker way. (Although it could be perceived that way with his unmoving unblinking stare.) he observes every move you make simply because he likes looking at you. And he’ll tell you that if you ask.
Love language is acts of service….he likes to do a lot of your mundane tasks for you. Tying your shoe, cutting and messuring ingredients while your cooking/baking, etc…
And if you’re hyper-independent it’s especially satisfying to him when you let him do things for you. He likes it when you get all huffy and start declining his help like “no I can do it” or “it’s just a little thing I can handle it” because he enjoys the way you melt when “I know but I want to do it for you.”
Assuming you wear lipstick/lip gloss not too rarely, he loves it when you get the lipstick/gloss on him. He doesn't even try to wipe it off. If it's there, it's there to stay.
He only asks for his clothes back because, for some reason, it gives him great joy when he opens his trunk to see his clothes gone.
His love language is acts of service and gifts. Of course, this doesn't mean he doesn't do everything else in the boyfriend handbook.
He subconsciously does all the slightly cheesy stuff. Holds doors open for you, covers the edge of the table with his hand if you're bent down to pick something up, warms your hands if they feel cold, everything.
He knows what you like about him. If it's his hair, he'll randomly grab your hand and put it in his hair. If it's his eyes, he'll cup your face when talking to you sometimes so you've no option but to look into them (no complains 🙌). If it's his smile, he'll be more smiley around you. I'll guess you get the picture.
Assuming you have long-ish hair, he's willing to learn hairstyles you like so he can touch you hair.
Also learnt how you paint your nails (eg if you like simple nail art, colour combinations, patterns, etc.) and does your non-dominant hand for you. Why? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
Buys you SO many gifts that you have around five of the same things in different colours (but I like having all the colours so-)
Lets you doodle on his parchment, books, hand, etc. (not like he actually uses them- he's just sleeping in all his classes)
Lets you put flowers in his hair on picnic dates.
He'll buy you flowers every Monday, because it's "the least I can do to make you day better)
