mirrorballjustforyou

“you are what you love”

17 posts

Keep Your Eyes On The Prize

Keep your eyes on the prize

Pairing: Harry x reader (I wrote this with a fem!reader in mind but looking back at it I’m pretty sure all of it is gender neutral :))

Summary: Harry can’t keep his eyes off of his girlfriend during a quidditch match between their houses

Word count: 3,819 (This was supposed to be max 1k words but I got a little carried away oopsies)

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, making out, necking, shameless flirting (lmk if i’m missing anything!!)

y/h/h = your hogwarts house

y/h/h/c = your hogwarts house color(s)

A/N: ok, so this is my first time posting my writing on here and I still have like 2 braincells when it comes to working tumblr but anyways i edited this like 3 times but there’s probably some grammar/spelling errors in here anyways. sorry about that but i hope you enjoy anyway! :))

A/N pt 2: just realized the timeline at the beginning makes 0 sense because Angelina graduated at the same time as the twins so just ignore that lmfao okay sorry ignore any other plot holes that i’m too lazy to fix thanks!!

@ronsbadidea i posted it 😳

THE BITTERLY COLD AUTUMN air bit at your face as you circled 50 feet above the quidditch match happening below you. The conditions weren’t bad, which you probably would have been grateful for if you hadn’t been freezing your ass off. Despite the cold, though, the sky was clear with a few misty grey clouds here and there and a slight breeze.

Your eyes darted back and forth, searching for the glint of gold among the blurs of red and y/h/h/c whizzing around on the quidditch pitch. The match had been going on for almost an hour and you had yet to even catch a glimpse of the shiny gold Snitch. You were beginning to become restless and had circled the pitch at least 20 times already.

“The beautiful and wonderfully skilled Angelina Johnson intercepts the quaffle from the y/h/h Captain! And she’s off toward their poor Keeper! Johnson is a terrific shot, how will he-Ow! Ok, ok! Sorry, Professor McGonagall, just giving credit where credit is due.”

You grin at Lee’s commentary, always full of shameless flattery for Angelina Johnson, one of Gryffindor’s expert Chasers.

Taking a second to see how your team’s Keeper was doing, you watched as Angelina ducked past a Bludger sent her way by Jason Samuels, a decent beater on your team, but in your opinion (that you would never share with your teammates of course) he didn’t compare to Fred or George Weasley. The Weasley twins had been some of the best Beaters at Hogwarts before graduating (you didn’t know if “graduating” was quite the right word for what they had pulled, though) the previous year.

You were snapped out of the glorious memory of Umbridge’s frog-like face scrunched up in fury, when you felt the rush of air as someone whizzed past you on their broom.

Whipping your head to the right–the direction in which the other player had headed–you saw the back of their jersey with the number “7″ printed in gold in the center. You knew who it was before they even turned around to face you again on their Firebolt (which you were extremely jealous of, though your Nimbus 2000 wasn’t terrible).

“Fancy seeing you up here,” Harry grinned.

Your heart gave a slight flutter despite yourself. You knew you should be focusing on the game, especially with your competing Seeker right next to you, but your boyfriend’s smile always managed to get you weak in the knees. You were sure that had you not been sitting on your broom you would have tripped over your own two feet. Harry always looked exceptionally good-looking in his quidditch uniform.

“I haven’t got time to pass some flirty banter back and forth with you, Harry,” you replied, trying to sound serious and get those damn butterflies out of your stomach. “I’ve got a game to win.”

“I love it when you get competitive, Y/n,” Harry said. Your stomach did a couple dozen backflips in a row.

“You can’t charm me into letting you win, Potter.”

“Letting me win?” Harry asked incredulously. “Who’s to say I won’t let you win?”

You steered your broom parallel to his and leaned over so your lips were about to brush his ear.

“I don’t need you to let me do anything, darling. We both know I’m more than capable of beating your ass.”

Harry stared at you as you pulled back, openmouthed and at a loss for words.

You winked at him and flew toward the other end of the quidditch pitch, quite sure you had just properly thrown your boyfriend off his game.

Another ten minutes went by, with no sign of the Golden Snitch, but every so often you would sneak a peek at Harry as you two circled the pitch. Every time you looked up he was looking right back at you. You wished you were close enough to see the look on his face. His pining face was always so adorable.

Suddenly, as you looked up at Harry once again, you saw a glimmer of gold dart out just behind his head. You were certain he should be able to hear the Snitch’s tiny wings buzzing right next to his ear, but it seemed he was oblivious to it. You realized he was staring at you again. Trying not to blush at the fact that Harry was so busy looking at you he didn’t even notice the Snitch, you sped toward him on your broom.

The Snitch was still darting from behind Harry’s head when you could finally make out his face. His expression was dreamy and intense. He had a large grin plastered across his face that grew as you got closer.

“Poor boy,” you thought. “He won’t even know what hit him.”

Just as you were about to stretch out your hand, already imagining closing your fingers around the Snitch’s smooth gold surface, a voice from below you snapped Harry out of his trance.

“Oi, Harry! Behind you!” Katie Bell shouted.

Harry blinked and turned his head just as the Snitch darted out from behind it and zoomed toward the Gryffindor goals.

“Dammit,” you hissed just as you passed Harry by.

You were focused on nothing but the Snitch and the way it darted in a zig-zag pattern as you chased after it. You only noticed Harry flying just a half an inch behind you when he yelled against the roaring wind:

“You play dirty, Y/l/n!”

You couldn’t help it as your lips curved into a devious smirk. “Not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me, Potter!”

“Not my fault you look so damn good in your uniform!”

“Right back at you!”

The two of you were now below the other players who were still fighting over the quaffle, though you had no idea who was in possession. In reality, Harry had been distracting you almost as much as you had him. You hadn’t the faintest clue what the score was and if catching the Snitch would even get your team to win, but the thrill of zipping and diving to catch it with Harry right at your side was too good not to pursue.

Down, up, left, right, backward. The two of you streaked across the quidditch pitch, swerving in and out of players, and expertly dodging bludgers from both teams. It was hard to tell which Seeker was the better player.

The Snitch suddenly plummeted another ten feet down. This was it, you could feel it. Your broom tilted downward, almost perpendicular to the ground that was getting dangerously close. You noticed you had dipped down just a second before Harry and now had the lead by a good two inches. But, you didn’t relish it much seeing as how Harry’s arms were twice as long as yours.

The Snitch was less than a foot from your grasp now. You and Harry both reached out your arms at the same time. Harry’s Firebolt was slowly gaining on your Nimbus 2000. You grunted and pushed your broom to go faster.

Just another inch. Come on!

You felt the smooth metal and desperate fluttering wings in your palm as your fingers enclosed around the Golden Snitch. You skidded to a halt just as you were about to crash into the ground and stumbled off your broom, holding your hand up high.

“And y/h/h’s Seeker, Y/n Y/l/n, has caught the Snitch!” Lee shouts, sounding only a little less enthusiastic than he did when Gryffindor won the match. “Y/h/h wins!”

The roar of the crowd filled your ear drums along with Madame Hooch’s whistle being blown. You smiled breathlessly, basking in the cheers of the crowd and the feeling of the Snitch still wriggling in your palm.

Your teammates came crashing onto the field a few seconds later and your team captain swept you onto his shoulders.

“Nice one, Y/l/n!” A Chaser on your team yelled.

“That grab was spectacular, Y/n!”

You smiled down at all of them and caught a glimpse of the Gryffindor team making their way back to the changing rooms, looking rather gloomy. You noticed Harry wasn’t with them, though. Skimming through the crowd that now encircled you, you saw him at the back, frowning as people pushed him farther away from you. He noticed you looking and mouthed:

“Our spot?”

You smiled and nodded, knowing exactly where he meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had to admit that the “spot” you and Harry had picked out for the two of you was quite honestly your favorite place at Hogwarts (besides the library and quidditch pitch of course). It was hidden by a clump of overgrown shrubs and trees, but you and Harry had managed to carve out a small hole in the greenery that the both of you could slip in and out of. It was just off to the right at the end of the courtyard. If you didn’t know it was there, which very few people did, it would look just like any of the other shrubbery at Hogwarts.

As you slipped in through the barely noticeable hole in the trees, you stopped to admire the hidden beauty of the small square. A stone bench sat just in front of an overgrown willow tree so you could lean your back against the trunk. A small broken fountain stood in the middle of the tiny patch of secret beauty. It was tiny, no bigger than a birdbath. The top of it barely reached your head and the water was erratic. Sometimes it would trickle slowly, other times it would spurt wildly every few minutes and then shut off completely (you couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had been surprised by the loud spurting sound that accompanied the random bursts of water and accidentally bitten your lip). The rest of the square was grassy and plain, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vines, but you couldn’t think of anywhere in the world that could ever compare to the beauty of your and Harry’s hidden cove.

Harry had yet to arrive so you took a seat on the bench, leaned back against the gnarled old willow tree whose leafy branches hung so low they almost touched the ground, and closed your eyes.

It seemed only a few moments passed before you heard rustling and a familiar grunt as Harry pushed himself through the makeshift doorway.

“You know, it’s considered polite to be on time when you ask someone to meet you,” you joke as he comes to sit next to you.

Harry laughs and the sound, no matter how many times you hear it, makes your heart swell.

“Sorry, Hagrid wanted to show me the new creature he’s showing to the third years tomorrow. You know how he gets.”

You smile fondly at the thought of Hagrid’s grin of pure fascination and wonder whenever he was around magical creatures. “What was it?”

“Oh, I’ve no idea, but whatever they were, they made those Blast-ended skrewts from fourth year look like cuddly teddy bears.”

You laughed, recalling the dozens of horror stories people had about Blast-ended skrewts. “Those poor third years, they won’t know what hit them.”

Harry chuckled, but it faded away quickly. “I never got to congratulate you on your win.”

“Better late than never,” you tease, elbowing him playfully.

Harry grins again, making your insides swirl. “You were brilliant, even if you did cheat.”

“Cheat?!” You gasp. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing, Mr. Potter!”

“You can’t deny it,” Harry replied dramatically, playing along with your little bit. “You used your seduction powers to distract me!”

You can’t help but break character and laugh. “’Seduction powers’? What, am I part veela now?”

Harry leans in so close that your noses brush and places a hand on your knee. “You’ve got to be. It’s the only explanation as to how you’ve got me so utterly entranced by you.”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks at Harry’s words. When you had first started dating in fourth year, you would have never guessed the flustered guy who stumbled over his invitation to the Yule Ball would know exactly what to say to make you red all over.

To hide the fact that Harry could still make you blush with only a few words, you grabbed the collar of his quidditch jersey that he had yet to change out of, and pulled him toward you.

Butterflies still erupted in your stomach every time Harry kissed you. His soft lips moved against your own in a perfect rhythm. The way his kisses started soft and got rougher and more passionate the longer they went on, while still being sweet had you weak in the knees. Speaking of knees, the hand that had been resting on yours began to slowly move up your thigh. As Harry placed his other hand under your jaw and tilted your head back to deepen the kiss, his hand found its home in the curve of your waist.

Your arms instinctively wrapped themselves around Harry’s neck, your hands making their way into his soft messy raven hair. Godric, how you loved that hair. Harry hated that it could never be tamed, but you thought it was cute and, quite frankly, very hot. It gave him that “I just rolled out of bed and didn’t even have to do anything to look this good” look. You especially loved the feeling of it tangled between your fingers. It was just a bonus that it happened to turn Harry on, too.

With that thought in mind (though it was hard to hold onto any coherent thought for more than a few seconds as Harry’s fingers traced circles on your waist), you moved your hands to the nape of his neck and found the messy locks attached to it. You twisted his hair between your fingers and tugged gently as you deepened the kiss further.

The groan your action elicited from Harry turned the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. You tugged once more, slightly harder this time, and Harry groaned again. You took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. Catching him off guard allowed you to win an easy dominance over his own tongue. You took your time exploring his mouth (even though you knew it very well), occasionally giving his hair gentle tugs.

Finally, when your chest felt like it was about to burst from lack of oxygen, you pulled away. You didn’t pull too far, though, and let your forehead rest against Harry’s as the two of you tried to catch your breaths.

Slowly, Harry began to place soft kisses across your jaw, stopping to nibble your earlobe, and then continuing on down your neck. You bit your lip in bliss, pulling Harry closer to you by his muscular shoulders. As Harry reached you sweet spot and began sucking on it gently you let out a breathy moan.

“Harry…”

“Say that again.”

“Hm?” You mumbled as you tilted you head back farther.

Suddenly, Harry’s perfectly soft lips left your feverish skin. You lifted your head to look at him, frowning.

“What?” You whined.

“Say that again,” Harry repeated, his eyes dark.

You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment, confused, before it dawned on you. You placed a hand where his neck and shoulder joint and leaned forward so your lips brushed against his earlobe.

Slowly, you nibbled his earlobe, just like he had done to you, and then whispered:

“Harry.”

The next thing you knew, Harry was attacking your neck and jawline with hot, open-mouthed kisses. His grip on your waist tightened and you could feel him pulling you even closer. Pushing his torso back slightly so it rested against the trunk of the willow tree, you shifted to straddle Harry’s hips as he sucked on your collar bone.

“Godric, Harry,” you whimpered as he grazed his teeth over your sweet spot. “You’ve no idea what you–mmm, yeah right there… you’ve no idea what you do to me.”

Harry paused his attack for a short moment to mumble against your skin:

“If it’s anything like what you do to me, I can assure you I do.”

Just as he was about to reattach his lips to your skin, you grabbed his chin gently and lifted his head level with yours.

Harry frowned slightly. “What?”

“Your turn,” you whispered as you lowered your head to his jawline.

Merlin, how you loved that, too. Your lips traveled from his chin all the way to his ear and back again. You started with soft, feathery light kisses, knowing it would drive Harry crazy. As your lips reached the sensitive skin on the underside of his jaw, you let your teeth graze against it. Harry’s muffled groan stirred the butterflies once more, but also annoyed you. Harry had an annoying habit of biting his lip while he wasn’t kissing you that muffled the sounds you loved hearing from his mouth. As your lips kissed and sucked the skin just behind his ear, you reached one of your hands up to Harry’s lips. Running your thumb along his mouth, you felt his teeth gripping his lip tightly. Your lips moved down to the smooth expanse of his neck while your fingers pulled Harry’s bottom lip from between his teeth. To prevent him from biting it again you began toying with it. Running your thumb over the smooth pink skin, you pulled down slightly. Harry moaned loudly and, to your satisfaction, perfectly clear.

“You like that, huh?” You mumbled against his collarbone.

“Yes, Y/n, Godric yes,” Harry groaned.

Harry’s praise raised your confidence level and you began to drag your tongue across his jawline again.

“What about that, darling?” You whispered as you reached the hand that wasn’t holding his lower lip hostage under his jersey.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned.

“Fuck what?” You pressed, dancing your fingers lightly across his torso.

Harry took a sharp intake of breath as your hand brushed against the waistline of his pants. “Fuck yes.”

You leaned down to suck on his sweet spot, just below his Adam’s apple, again. Finally, after you were sure you had left a lasting mark, you detached your swollen lips from Harry’s neck and looked up at him.

Your fingers still enclosed his lower lip, which was just as swollen as your own. Running your thumb across the soft skin again, you pout up at him.

“You know I like hearing you, Harry. Why muffle all the pretty sounds you make?”

He stared back at you looking dazed. Releasing his lip from your grasp, you slid a second hand under his shirt.

“Sorry, I just–”

“Shh,” you shushed him. “Don’t apologize.”

Harry didn’t reply as his eyelids fluttered closed at the feeling of your fingertips tracing the prominent lines of his hard earned abs.

“You’ve got to give me your workout routine, baby,” you murmured.

You absentmindedly lifted Harry’s jersey to study his stomach muscles. You had to admit, they were impressive, even by a Quidditch player’s standard.

“I think we’ve got a pretty good one down, don’t you?” Harry grinned cheekily.

You snorted. “I s’pose it isn’t too bad, but it’s not the sole reason for these.”

You lowered your head to his torso, kissing each muscle painfully slow.

“Y/n,” Harry grunted.

“Yes, Harry?” You replied, taking extra long to press a kiss to his right oblique.

“Quit teasing.”

“You calling me a tease, Potter?” You smirked as you lifted your head to his level again.

Instead of answering your question, Harry grabbed your chin roughly and pulled you in for another kiss. This kiss was more aggressive, more needy, than the first. Yet, somehow, the movement of Harry’s lips still gave it that soft feeling that made everything but the way he tasted like pumpkin juice with the slightest hint of butterbeer and the smell of broomsticks and treacle tart disappear. Just as you were about to try to gain dominance again, Harry bit down on your bottom lip. You let out a sound that was a mix of a gasp and a moan. Harry’s tongue entered your mouth and began revisiting its favorite places.

“Merlin, Y/n, you taste so good,” Harry mumbled into your mouth.

You hummed in response as his hands slid their way under your own shirt, which happened to be Harry’s favorite.

“Notice what I’m weari–mmph,” you asked, the last part of your question getting caught off as one of Harry’s hands moved up your bare torso as the other caressed your thigh.

To your dismay, Harry pulled back, the absence of his tongue in your mouth feeling strange. You waited impatiently as Harry studied your sweater.

“You wear that on purpose, love?” Harry mused, rubbing the fabric between his long fingers. “For me?”

You leaned down to plant a few kisses on his jawline. “Thought you could use a bit of cheering up after I beat your ass.”

You pulled away, smirking at Harry.

“Cheering up? I’m happy you won, it was a brilliant catch, Y/n,” Harry frowned. He was looking at you seriously, like he really believed you thought he wasn’t happy for you. It was adorable.

“Oh, I know you’re happy for me, Harry,” you smiled, cupping his cheek in your hand. “That’s what’s so great about you.” You paused and then grinned. “But Gryffindors are known for their sense of pride, and your pride sure got a nice kick to the arse today.”

“It did not!” Harry argued indignantly, though both of you could tell by the others tone they were only joking.

“Whatever you say, Potter.”

“I just don’t know how you beat me to it,” Harry shook his head. “I was right there, I could practically smell the victory already!”

“You let me distract–,” you paused and tapped the tip of his nose affectionately, “–you.”

“You’re just so distracting, though,” Harry frowned, running his hands over your waist and then down your thighs.

“You’ve just got to focus on the Snitch, that’s all,” you told him as you twirled a stray lock of Harry’s hair around your pointer finger. “Keep your eye on the prize.”

Harry was quiet for a moment and then reached out to cup your cheek and turn your head to look at him. He looked at you with so much love and adoration, you thought your heart might burst right out of your chest.

“I did.”