Control {Harry Potter}

Three

-verbatim-

-no more gettin' elated-

-no more listless invitations-

Rosie silently patted herself on the back when she turned in her schedule for Quidditch tryouts and practices, to which Professor Flitwick told her that she was the first Captain to turn in her schedule.

Which meant that she wasn't going to have to reschedule any practices, thank Merlin. It was already a great start to the term, and Rosie sighed in relief.

One last thing to stress about. Or, for the time being. Quidditch always made her stressed in some way, and Rosie could never quite understand why.

She loved Quidditch, but she always set herself to a high standard that was impossible for her to reach.

One day Rosie believes that she will put herself in St. Mungo's with all of the unnecessary stress she adds to her life.

It was a good thing that Rosie knew how to relieve that stress. It was also a good thing that there always seemed to be people that were eager to help Rosie out.

When she called, they would come running. No strings attached, no high expectations. Just Rosie blowing off steam while whatever guy she was with got something in return.

It was a great way for Rosie to get her mind off of Quidditch. And since she had tryouts in two hours, and was now responsible of choosing who would be on her team, Rosie was stressed.

And she was pleased to know that Dean Thomas had no problem in distracting her.

"How much time do you have," Dean whispered in her ear, before biting her earlobe.

It drew a moan out from Rosie. "Hour and a half. Maybe hour and fifteen."

Rosie felt Dean smirk against her neck. "Plenty of time."

He kissed down her neck, unbuttoning the top few buttons so only the tops of her breasts were shown. Rosie hummed, running her hands through Dean's hair. Dean's hands kept trailing down farther, brushing against her ass and squeezing it.

He walked her backwards to the wall so Rosie had something to lean on. She felt his length press up against her, and Rosie couldn't wait until she could suck it off. She broke away from their kiss, and dragged her tongue from his throat to his earlobe, and bit on it slightly.

"Sweet Merlin," Dean cursed as Rosie trailed her hand down his chest until she reached the zipper of his trousers.

She palmed him, feeling the size through his trousers.

His hands kept wandering, until they went under her skirt. Rosie was happy she was wearing her long socks instead of her stockings. Made things much easier.

She felt him play with her underwear, until he slowly dragged it down her legs. It was the sweet kind of torture; with her slowly getting wetter with every second he took to pull down her underwear.

Then, he got on his knees, and licked a long stripe up her cunt. Rosie moaned, and smiled at the ceiling. She had a very good feeling that Dean knew what he was doing. And when he sucked on her clit, Rosie knew that she was right.

"Holy fuck," Rosie exhaled.

Suddenly the dark closet they were in was flooded with light.

Rosie frowned, blinking her eyes to adjust her vision. Dean pulled away, sadly, and got up. Rosie was still leaning against the wall, panting.