Harry Potter Imagines

The first quidditch match R.W

The tension was high in the air, your breath hitching as brooms zoomed past your eyes, looking like shadowy figures. The scores were completely tied, a tough and competitive match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Heavy gasps waved through the crowd as quaffles were blocked, the snitch still not yet caught. It's been almost half an hour of a none-stop Quidditch game, the players progressively becoming exhausted as they continued to fight on.

Your Gryffindor scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, making it harder to breathe. You were on the tip of your toes, staring intensely at your boyfriend, Ron Weasley. You could see the outlines of his contorted, scrunched face, a visible sign of frustration. It was his first match and it was way more intense then what he expected.

However, his training paid off well during practices. He was a fair Keeper, zooming from goal post to goal post, knocking the quaffle away. He remained determined and headstrong, not once letting the cool winter air or his exhaustion get the best of him.

You bit your lip as another quaffle was smacked away from the goal, a couple of groans escaping students' mouths. Lee Jordan's voice was becoming raspy, strained from constantly announcing who was in the lead. It seemed like the match was about to announce a tie when the Gryffindor booth screamed with joy.

Harry Potter finally caught the snitch, skidding to the ground, holding the golden ball close to his chest. Relief washed over you, your House winning the match. Not only were you taking a win, you also could finally relax with your boyfriend.

You pushed your way past the crowd, making a straight line to the Gryffindor tower, waiting for the team to walk into the Common Rooms with their trophy in hand. An uproar of cheers boomed across the room as Harry walked in first, his best friend following after. Harry always loved the attention, soaking it up as much as he could while Ron remained sheepish and shy, his ears tinted pink as he received celebratory pats on the back.

Butterbeer flowed from a barrel, cups being passed around the room, confetti and streamers flying in the air. The atmosphere was warm and cheery, and you were feeling more than excited to give a congratulatory kiss to your lover.

You pulled Ron to the side, taking him away from whomever he was speaking to in the moment. You couldn't wait any longer, your lips locking with his, your fellow students oo'ing at the sight of your make out.

You laughed wildly as Ron held your hips tight, keeping you still in your place. He ignored the playful teasing, pecking your lips once more before you pulled him away from the party and up the stairs.

"Babe, where are we going? I thought-" You shushed Ron up with yet another kiss, trailing to his jawline. "I want you, now."

Ron seemed to perk up at your demand, lifting and plopping you over his shoulder. He squeezed your ass as he took you to his room, making sure his bedroom door was locked and sealed so no one could disturb the both of you.

Ron gave one last squeeze before you tossed you onto his bed, parchment papers flying everywhere from the sudden weight. You giggled as he dove towards you, smothering kisses around your face and neck, desperate to get your shirt above your head.

His actions were quick and needy, finding yourself undressed before you could say Quidditch. You pulled at his Gryffindor jumper, the cotton soft against your touch. Ron propped himself on his knees, towering above your lying figure, tossing his clothes to the side of the bed.

He spread your knees apart, burying his head in between your thighs. You let out a loud gasp, your fingers interlocking and tugging at his ginger locks. His warm tongue pressed harshly against your already wet pussy, pleasure radiating throughout your body. His fingertips sunk deep into your thighs as his tongue worked harder, sucking at your clit, making you thrust your hips, moaning out his name.

"Fuck, Ron!" You hissed, your voice raspy, already breathless from the way he ate you out. He always took care of you first, regardless of the circumstance. You looked down, watching his head bob appreciatively, lapping up your wetness, creating a connection between his saliva and your juices.

You were about to explode at the sight, his name rolling heavy out of your mouth. Unfortunately he took his tongue away, leaving you panting underneath him. You stared up at him with a wild expression, ready to curse him out when his cock slammed into you.

"Ron!" You yelped, squealing as he continued to fuck you raw and hard, clearly in control at the moment. He must've been riding out his high from winning the match, his dominant side usually never so aggressive and in charge. You reached up, wanting to taste his mouth, but his large hand grabbed both of your tiny wrists, holding them above your head.

He smirked down at you, his eyes hungry with lust as he watched your breasts jump from the motion, taking his free hand to flick and play with your nipple. You were powerless against him, hot and heavy moans escaping your lips.

"You fuck me so good, baby," You moaned, encouraging him to continue at his rapid rate. Ron huffed, his cock buried deep in your pussy. He wasn't shy when it came to calling out your name, his deep voice, bouncing off the walls of his bedroom.

Ron quickened his pace, squeezing your wrists as he was letting you know he was about to come. You bit your lip before letting yourself go to which Ron gladly followed, cum spraying your stomach.

He grunted, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his tissue box, cleaning you up. "We really should be using condoms," he chuckled, kissing the tip of your nose.

You let out a soft laugh, kissing his lips. "Round two?"