I don’t know if you are taking requests os not, but im in a certain mood and i need to make a suggestion: we always see situations with y/n being woken up by him eating her out, but i can’s stop picturing him waking her by licking and sucking of her nipples, she is all submissive sleepy and confused on what is happening, and apparently he has been going at it for a while because she is sore
Hell yeah I’ll do this one, I neglect nipple play sometimes (my bad) but it’s fun! I’m imagining this as our Illicit pairing but, it could be a standalone <3
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Warnings- somnophilia (pre discussed but could be considered dub-con), nipple play, biting, dom!Harrry
Y/N was hot. Not the usual hot she got, but the type of heat that made her sticky. The warmth was deep, almost similar to the heat in her face she’d get when she woke up from a particularly erotic dream, but she knew that wasn’t exactly what she had dreamt of.
No, she could feel her body thrum as the slow fade of her slumber had her going to squirm, to stretch her sleepy, somewhat stiff limbs- but she couldn’t.
There was nowhere for her to go, because her husband was laid on top of her, and her right nipple was between his lips.
“There she is.” He pulled back momentarily, tweaking the puffy nub just hard enough to make her gasp. “Was wondering when you’d wake up. Hope you don’t mind.” He kissed between her breasts, a line of three up her sternum before switching to the other side. “Woke up and couldn’t stop starin’ at them. I know were begging me to play with them last night but I was busy. M’sorry, my love.”
His hair was ruffled from sleep, sticking up in a messy quiff that was only familiar to her, his face slightly flushed and his lips equally swollen from what she deduced must have been a decent amount of sucking on her tits, based off of how sensitive they felt.
“Mm?” She furrowed her brows, sleep still keeping her hazy as she reached her hand to his hair and pet over it. “Oh yeah. Fell asleep without you.” Her pout was short lived when his teeth grazed her nipple, the throb of her clit enough to make her try and squirm again. With him between her legs, it was impossible to squeeze her thighs together.
“Yeah, I got caught up on a call. Time differences.” He seemed genuinely remorseful before he blew out a soft stream of air on her sensitive skin, making her shiver underneath him. “I know I said I’d take care of you, but I was so tired too… but I’m plenty awake right now.”
Y/N mewled as he sucked the nipple back between his puffy lips, taking more in his mouth than necessary as he suckled a bit- almost like he was trying to get something out of her. “Fuck.” She swallowed, dragging her fingers into his hair as he nuzzled into her soft breast.
Harry loved her chest. Any time he could get his hands or mouth on them, he would make sure to. This wasn’t the first and it wouldn’t be the last time she woke up like this, but Y/N would be the first to admit she loved it just as much. She trusted him to take care of her body, even if he was indulging in the slightly selfish obsession he had with her tits.
“Love them. Love you.” He rasped after pulling off with a soft ‘pop’, a string of his own spit connecting his top lip to her nipple. Both of her tits were wet with it, she noticed as she looked at them, but she decided to close her eyes again.
“Love you more. So much.” She sighed, feeling him pluck the other nipple between his index and thumb.
“Yeah, my love? Gonna let me play with them for a bit before I have t’go deal with fucking idiots who keep trying to call my phone?” He crooned, lining kisses over the swells of her breasts before finding a spot. Y/N knew what he was about to do, bracing herself for the bite of his teeth as he sucked right over it. The intent to leave marks on her always made her extremely worked up and her husband knew it.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, voice breathy as she squirmed again. “Whatever you want.”
“Thank you, baby.” He spoke muffled against her wet skin. “Just lay still for me, m’gonna keep at it. Tell me about your day.”
Sinopse: Um final de semana! Uma ilha isolada, meu sugar daddy preferido.
Aviso: Este será uma Short Fic dedicado a Sugar Daddy Styles. +18, incluindo cenas explícitas de sexo em todos os capítulos, álcool e drogas ilícitas, os Hots dessa história estão bem detalhados(muito mesmo) então se esse tipo de conteúdo não for do seu agrado, recomendo que não leia./ Contém cenas de sexo explícito com food play (uso não convencional de alimentos durante o sexo)
NotaAutora: 'cadelinha' é o apelido oficial dela, então se não gostar é só ignorar. Escrevi uma cena de sexo totalmente diferente do que já fiz por aqui, espero que gostem.
Capítulo 1| Capítulo 2 | Capítulo 3
Capítulo 4
O vestido de seda azul deslizava sobre minha pele ainda quente do banho e o plug anal que Harry insistira para eu manter estava fazendo uma pressão a cada movimento enquanto descia as escadas para encontrá-lo para jantar.
Harry já me esperava sentado à mesa com uma taça de vinho nas mãos, seu peito definido à mostra sob a camisa floral aberta, seu shorts bege curto e seus olhos verdes queimando-me enquanto eu me aproximava.
— Você está linda. — Puxou-me para perto, a mão dele deslizou por baixo do meu vestido, os dedos encontrando a marca do plug através do tecido fino da minha calcinha. — Boa garota, continua aí.
— Aproveitou o banho, cadelinha?
— Sim. — Sorri, sentando-me ao seu lado.
— Daddy, o que é isso? — Inclinei a cabeça na direção do balcão da cozinha, onde fileiras de frascos se alinhavam: chantilly, calda de chocolate, tequila, morangos frescos...
— Isso, minha princesa, é o cardápio da sobremesa. — Disse enquanto pousava sua mão grande em minha coxa. — Mas primeiro, você vai jantar, quero você bem alimentada para a noite que preparei.
Ele levantou, começando a servir o jantar que nem vi ser preparado para nós.
— Onde estão os funcionários?
— Mandei eles nos deixarem a sós, voltam só amanhã.
— Ah! E por quê? — Fiz-me de desentendida só para ouvir da boca dele o que iria fazer comigo.
— Por quê? — Repetiu, rindo. — Porque não quero ninguém além de mim ouvindo seus gemidos gostosinhos, a noite toda, baby.
Durante o jantar, Harry não parava de me tocar, sua mão grande acariciando minha nuca, minhas costas, minhas coxas expostas pelo vestido curto. Era delicioso ter esse tempo com ele, sem pressa, sem cobranças, me fazendo até esquecer o que realmente éramos um para o outro.
— Você está especialmente linda hoje, sabia? — Styles murmurou, o hálito quente e doce de vinho contra minha orelha.
— Acho que deve ser o vestido que comprou para mim. — Eu ri, fingindo desdém.
— Não. — Sua mão apertou minha coxa com firmeza. — É você, você é sempre extremamente gostosa, eu não sei como eu pude viver tanto tempo sem te conhecer.
— Você está bêbado, acho que tomou muito vinho durante o jantar. — Ri, deixando um beijo em seu pescoço, tentando afastar os pensamentos conflituosos que me enchiam.
Eu não podia me apaixonar por Harry Styles.
— Não o suficiente. — Ele se levantou, puxando minha cadeira para trás. — Hora da sobremesa, princesa.
Meu coração acelerou quando ele me levou até a ilha da cozinha, onde garrafas de bebidas alcoólicas, caldas, frutas e chantilly nos esperavam.
— Escolhe um. — Ele ordenou.
— Por que?
— Só escolhe. — Suas mãos foram por baixo do meu vestido, apertando minha bunda.
— Chantilly?
— Ótima escolha.
Seus dedos saíram debaixo do meu vestido, encontrando o zíper e puxando devagar, deixando o tecido cair no chão. Eu não usava nada além da calcinha e ao ver meus seios expostos, ele não deixou de aproveitar para prová-los, sua língua quente sugando meu mamilo com intensidade.
— Agora suba. — Ordenou, com as mãos já descendo minha calcinha.
— O que?
— Eu mandei subir no balcão. — Sorriu ao jogar minha última peça de roupa em algum canto da casa.
— Mas nós não íamos comer a sobremesa?
— Você é a sobremesa, cadelinha. — Ele me ajudou a subir na ilha, o mármore era frio contra minha pele quente. — Agora abre.
Seus olhos verdes devoravam-me enquanto abria as pernas, expondo minha boceta pronta para ele brincar.
Ele usou os dedos para me abrir ainda mais, depois cobriu meu clitóris com chantilly, antes de se inclinar e lamber o creme em minha boceta, sugando meu clitóris.
Meus dedos se enrolaram no cabelo dele quando senti sua mão brincando com o plug, enquanto continuava a me chupar, era uma sensação estranha e prazerosa ser estimulada assim.
— Daddy...
— Tá gostoso, né? Pela carinha que você está fazendo, deve estar e porra quando você faz essa cara deixa meu pau ainda mais duro com vontade de meter dentro de você. — Aquele sorriso safado sempre acabava comigo. — Agora escolha o próximo, querida, ainda quero mais.
— Morangos...
— Vamos te decorar direito, cadelinha.
Harry usou o frasco de chantilly mais uma vez, espalhando-o por minha boca, meus seios, minha barriga e minha boceta. Logo depois, segurou um morango vermelho e suculento entre os dedos, passando-o lentamente pelos seios cobertos de chantilly, roçando nos meus mamilos.
Não consegui conter um gemido quando ele mordeu a fruta e o meu mamilo ao mesmo tempo, o suco escorrendo pelo meu seio, formando um fio rosado sobre o chantilly branco, que Harry seguiu o rastro com a língua, limpando cada gota.
— Delicioso. — Murmurou, colocando o que restou do morango na boca.
Ainda insatisfeito, Harry pegou outro morango um pouco maior e começou a descer, passando-o pela trilha de chantilly da minha barriga até o umbigo e quando a ponta do morango encontrou meu clitóris, eu soltei um suspiro trêmulo.
— Porra... — Choraminguei, me contorcendo.
Que sensação era aquela?
Harry usou a fruta para massagear meu clitóris, pressionando e circulando, esfregando o morango para cima e para baixo na minha boceta, me masturbando com ele, era uma fricção diferente de qualquer coisa que eu já tinha sentido.
— Olha como você está deixando o morango molhadinho... Igual a você. — Mordeu os lábios apreciando a vista.
Eu me agarrei às bordas frias do mármore quando ele começou a inserir o morango dentro de mim. Ele não a enfiou todo, deixou metade para fora, então segurando o cabinho, começou a mover a fruta para dentro e para fora.
— Daddy... — Meus olhos arregalaram, era uma sensação tão diferente de seu pau e seus dedos ou qualquer outra coisa que já senti dentro de mim.
— Quer que eu tire? - Ele fez questão de girar o morango.
— Não...
Harry sorriu, continuando a movê-lo dentro de mim, cada movimento fazia o suco do morango se misturar com meus próprios fluidos, um som baixo e molhado ecoava no silêncio da cozinha, juntamente com meus gemidos.
A estranheza inicial começou a se dissipar, dando lugar ao prazer, meus quadris começaram a se mover por vontade própria contra a fruta, buscando mais.
Eu estava perdendo a cabeça com a porra de um morango.
Sua mão livre desceu até o plug anal, pressionando-o suavemente enquanto o morango continuava seu movimento dentro da minha boceta. A dupla estimulação era quase insuportável de tão boa que meu corpo todo começou a tremer, uma onda de calor subindo do meu abdômen.
— Tá perto, né? — Harry sussurrou, os olhos fixos no ponto onde o morango desaparecia dentro de mim.
Ele curvou-se e prendeu meu clitóris entre os lábios, sugando forte enquanto continuava a foder-me com o morango e a brincar com o plug.
Não aguentei mais do que àquilo, longos gemidos começaram a sair da minha boca, altos e descontrolados, quando aquele formigamento prazeroso começou a se espalhar por meu corpo, minha visão escureceu e aquele prazer foi tão intenso que parecia me despedaçar por dentro. Harry não parou de lamber e chupar até o último tremor, até eu estar completamente fraca e derretida sobre o balcão.
Styles deu um sorriso perverso, tirando o morango ensopado e brilhante e levou o morango à boca, chupando, depois comendo todo em uma mordida.
— Ah... Porra... Seu gosto… Misturado com o do morango, é muito melhor do que qualquer doce, princesa.— Harry limpou os lábios com o dorso da mão, um sorriso de pura satisfação estampado no rosto enquanto me observava ainda tremendo.— Vem cá. — Segurou minha mão, guiando-me para fora da bancada.
Seus lábios encontraram o meu com pressa, senti o sabor do morango em sua língua, me deixando estranhamente mais excitada.
— Daddy... Preciso de você...
Harry me levou até a sala, me deixou parada em pé, observando-o tirar seu shorts e a cueca, seu lindo pau saltou para fora me fazendo desejar ainda mais ter ele dentro de mim, quando Harry me puxou para mais perto eu achei que ia me colocar para cavalgar em seu colo até gozarmos de novo, mas ao invés disso, de repente, o mundo ficou de cabeça para baixo, literalmente, ele me virou, me posicionou sobre ele, seu braço forte envolveu minha cintura e o outro segurou minha coxa, antes que eu entendesse eu estava suspensa de ponta-cabeça, com as pernas abertas e minha boceta centímetros de seu rosto e minha boca alinhada com seu pau duro, escorrendo pré-gozo.
— Caralho! — Meu coração disparou, mas as mãos dele estavam firmes, segurando meu quadril como se eu não pesasse nada.
— Nunca fez 69 assim, princesa?
— N-não! — Engoli seco, minhas mãos se agarrando em suas coxas por falta de algo melhor para segurar.
— Bom. — Ele deu um tapa na minha bunda, a pele ardendo sob o impacto. — Sempre tem a primeira vez para tudo, não é?
I had this idea in the middle of the night and thought, “why not write and post it? maybe someone will like it...”
so here it is! I hope you enjoy it.
leave a comment so I know if you liked it enough for me to keep writing more.
and if you have any ideas, I’m open to them too!
oh, and just so you know: english is not my first language :)
Nothing that afternoon indicated the day would end that way.
Y/N was exhausted. Work had been a mess from the moment she walked in — three back-to-back meetings, an impatient boss, and a mistake that wasn’t even hers ending up on her shoulders. Her phone kept buzzing nonstop until she finally silenced everything. She didn’t even have time for a proper lunch: just ate two crackers in the car on her way to the hotel where Harry was waiting for a few days of rest.
But she didn’t want to show anything. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be the girlfriend who went to the gym with him.
Harry noticed her exhaustion the second she walked into the room. Her eyes were dull, shoulders low. But when he asked if she wanted to work out, she forced a smile.
— It’ll do me good, love. I want to sweat all of this out.
And he believed her. Because she knew how to lie with her eyes when she wanted to seem strong.
In the hotel gym, the atmosphere was nearly silent. An older man was on the treadmill in the back, and another guy — too tanned, too muscular, wearing a tight tank top — was using the corner with the weights. Harry, focused on his functional workout and listening to his playlist, kept an eye on her. Always.
Y/N tried to focus on her movements, but her body wasn’t responding like before. The stressful day was taking its quiet toll — and she tried to hide it. Between sets, she stopped near the mirror, adjusting her sports bra with a sigh. That’s when she felt the presence beside her. A man — overly muscular, overly tanned, with the kind of confidence that comes off the wrong way — appeared with a crooked smile.
— Hey, tough workout, huh? I could give you a few tips if you want... I noticed you’re using the wrong weight.
She glanced at him, trying to stay polite.
— I’m good, thanks. I’m with my boyfriend.
The guy gave a half-smile, like he didn’t take her seriously.
— You sure? A lot of people don’t even realize they’re training wrong. And no offense… but you look more like a model than an athlete.
She was visibly uncomfortable. She didn’t even have to answer. Harry was already walking over, dropping his dumbbells with a soft thud, eyes locked on the two of them.
— Is there a problem here?
— Just chatting, man. Relax. It’s a public gym.
— Public, yeah. But if she said she’s good, then you should respect that.
— And next time you wanna “give tips,” maybe learn how to recognize when someone’s not interested.
— Are you always like this? Jumping in like you own her?
— I don’t own anyone. But I’m her boyfriend. And I don’t like it when someone makes her feel uncomfortable.
— You were pushing. And she clearly said no.
The guy laughed nervously.
— Alright, champ. No need to be so sensitive. She’s hot — can’t help turning heads, right?
Harry let out a dry laugh, but his eyes were sharp.
— Yeah, she’s insanely gorgeous. But the only attention that matters to her… she already has. Mine.
A heavy silence settled between them. The guy shrugged, mumbled something, and walked off.
Harry only turned to her once the man was out of sight. His expression softened instantly.
— Are you okay, love? Did he touch you?
— No, he didn’t go that far. Just irritated me. — She tried to play it off, but the tension was still in her shoulders.
Harry gently wrapped his arm around her waist.
— If at any moment you want to leave, just say the word. Or if you want to keep training, I’ll stay right by your side. Okay?
She nodded, resting her face on his shoulder.
— Thank you for that. Really.
He kissed the top of her head softly, keeping his hand resting on her back.
— I’ll always protect you, baby. Even when you think you can handle it on your own.
She gave him a weak smile and went back to training. So did he. But now, even more watchful.
As she did squats, he watched her through the mirror. As she pulled on cables, he silently counted her reps. He knew just by looking that something was off. The way her fingers trembled, the way she paused with a distant look, how she leaned on the machine like she was trying to hide her weakness.
Then, the moment she dropped the weights and held her stomach, staggering to the nearest wall, he dropped everything.
— Y/N! — He rushed over, heart pounding. — Love… look at me, sweetheart. What are you feeling?
She was panting, sweating, hands on her face.
— I... I feel nauseous... — she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her in a firm, protective gesture.
— Let’s get you over there. Come with me. I got you. — He led her gently to a modern trash bin near the exit.
She knelt down. Her stomach revolted and she threw up. Harry stayed the entire time — kneeling behind her, carefully holding her hair, gently stroking the curve of her spine in soothing, steady movements.
— It’s gonna pass soon, baby... breathe, breathe, my love. I’m right here. — His voice was low, but full of pain at seeing her like that.
When she finished, he grabbed a towel and gently wiped her face. Then moved her hair away and cupped her cheek.
— Love… why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling okay? Huh? — he said softly but firmly.
— I just wanted... to do something nice with you. Not ruin the day.
He looked at her like his heart had been squeezed tight.
— You never ruin anything, sweetheart. Never.
— It just breaks me knowing you chose to suffer alone instead of letting me help.
He ran his fingers over her neck, then her shoulders, tenderly.
— Let me take care of you now, okay? Let’s go upstairs. Take a hot shower, eat something light, lie down together. Just us.
— Today you deserve comfort. And tomorrow too. And whenever you need it.
She rested her head on his chest, and he held her close, swaying gently like he was cradling the whole world.
They went up together. In the room, he prepared a warm bath for her, and while she was in the shower, he made toast with honey and chamomile tea. He placed everything on the corner table with a little note scribbled in his big handwriting:
“For my strongest girl in the world. Who now gets to be as weak as she wants.
With love, your Harry.”
When she came out of the shower, he was already lying in bed with his shirt laid out next to her pillow, waiting for her.
She laid down beside him, and Harry wrapped his arms around her like he was still trying to shield her from everything the day had thrown at her.
— Thank you for being this kind of love — she whispered.
He smiled, kissing her forehead, then her nose, then her lips — with such tenderness it felt like a promise.
— You’re my favorite kind of love, my beautiful princess.
And that night, between sighs and intertwined fingers, he stayed awake until he was sure her breathing was calm, steady, and safe.
Just like his heart only felt when she was at peace.
I genuinely LIVE for your soft smit. Do you think you could possibly give us something where maybe Reader is stressed out or something and Harry just takes care of her? I love when he's all soft and mushy
masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests are open
Kiss in the Kitchen like it’s a Dance Floor
~
Closing the front door behind him quietly, Harry takes his shoes off at the door before heading out in search for his wife. He already has an idea, though, because of the soft music coming from her cooking playlist and the fact that moment he stepped in the house he was met with a smell that was nothing short of delicious. So he quietly makes his way toward the kitchen, and the sight he’s met with makes his heart melt but at the same time he feels his cock hardening in his pants.
Seeing YN doing something so domestic is nothing new, but it never fails to make his mouth water or his mind go foggy as he watches her. From the pout of concentration on her lips to the sway of her hips, he doesn’t think he can keep to himself for much longer.
YN is simply in the kitchen, cooking stuffed chicken breast, something he’s sure is a surprise because on Fridays they usually get takeout. She knows it’s his favourite, though, and she just thought she’d do something nice since he’s been so busy lately.
He just continues to watch her in her element, a soft smile on his face and the ache of his cock a bit further back in his mind. The moment she finishes searing them she puts them in a baking dish, ready to put them into the oven. As she bends over, though, she feels a sharp slap against her left ass cheek and yelps as she nearly drops the food. She places the pan into the oven before turning around with a scowl and smacking Harry in the head with her oven mitt. “Fuck’s sake, Harry! You almost made me drop our dinner,” she grumbles, folding her arms over her chest and playfully glaring at a chortling Harry. He just gives her his signature dimpled grin before gently grabbing her waist and pulling her to him.
“m sorry, baby. You just look so good all concentrated that I couldn’t help it,” he teases, leaning down to peck her lips again. When she tries to pull away he pulls her tighter, deepening the kiss. They moan into each others’ mouths, and Harry lets out an actual whine when YN pulls away and turns back to the stove, ready to cook the vegetables for the meal. “I need to cook, babe. I actually want to eat at some point,” she responds, but he can still hear the teasing in her tone.
“Well how about this; you keep making what we’re gonna eat later, and I’ll work on what I’m going to eat before dinner,” he whispers against her ear then starting to kiss down her neck. He smirks against the skin of her neck when she starts to squirm and press her thighs together, her breathing picking up as well as her pulse.
“Harry, you always do this. Sometimes I just want to cook,” she replies breathlessly, a quiet moan leaving her lips as he begins to suck on the sensitive skin there. Harry just continues to smirk against her, rubbing up and down her hips with a hum.
“So if I stick my hand down your panties you won’t be soaked?” he asks, to which he shakes her head.
“Not even a little bit,” she says, a playful smile coming to her face as well.
“Let’s see then, hm?” he says, and he waits for her to nod before reaching into her shorts, where he finds that she’s not wearing panties. He slips a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move along. He gathers a bit on his fingers before using it as lubricant to rub at her swelling clit. Her knees nearly give out as she chokes on a moan and bucks her hips to his torch but he just wraps his other arm around her, keeping her in place.
He sets a steady pace instantly, pressing kisses to her bare shoulder as he works her clit with intent, each circle calculated and precise to push her toward her orgasm. Harry keeps this up for no more than two minutes or so before he feels her legs start to shake slightly and her hand flies up to grip his wrist as she begins to grind down onto his hand.
“That’s it, take what you need. You can cum whenever you have to,” he rasps, not changing anything about what he’s doing to her. “Let it out, you can cum for me. I’ve got you,” and that’s her unraveling. Her body goes completely rigid for a few moments but he knows better than to stop or slow down, and then she’s relaxing entirely and letting out a loud moan of pure pleasure as she rides out her orgasm against his hand.
“You did so well for me, bet that was a lot, huh?” he coos against her ear, rubbing her clit gently as she comes down from her high, bucking her hips against his hand in overstimulation. He moves away when she begins to squirm a bit from discomfort, slowly pulling his hand from her shorts.
She sighs happily, a dopey grin on her face and a glow like no other as she turns around to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Can i cook now?” she asks him jokingly, and he just hums as he ignores the question. In response he just brings his hand up to her mouth, tapping at her chin for her to open before slipping his fingers inside. She immediately closes her mouth around them and moans at the taste. Harry can barely keep himself together as he feels her tongue move around his fingers, cleaning all of her orgasm off him. Pulling his fingers out, he smiles at her.
“Of course,” he responds to her earlier question before stepping back and leaning against the kitchen island on his elbows. “Don’t mind me.”
YN is confused because she surely thought this was going to go further. But she shrugs and turns back to the vegetables while the potatoes are boiling. The second she puts the asparagus in the oil she feels her hips pulled back and her shorts pulled down. She gasps in shock and looks back to see Harry dropping to his knees. Before she can get a word in, though, she feels him spread her open and swipes his tongue all the way from her clit to her opening. The moan she provides him with is full of surprise as she slams her hand down onto the counter, gripping it tightly.
Her other hand goes back to grip Harry’s hair, her hips bucking against his tongue. He groans against her at the feeling of her hand tangled in his hair, the delicious burn only making him need her even more than he already does. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he pulls her closer to his face while simultaneously pushing his face closer where he can feel her throbbing against his tongue.
He’s lapping eagerly at her, suckling on her clit for a few moments before slipping his tongue inside her throbbing hole. YN can only moan and begin to clench around his tongue when the tip of it just slightly grazes her g-spot. Her knees are about to give out but he doesn’t let her fall, gripping her tighter to his face. Her moans get louder and he knows she’s close again , so he groans into her once more, the vibrations sending her catapulting to the edge but she’s not there yet. He takes a hand and rubs her clit quickly, pulling away for just a moment to give her some encouragement.
“Let go, honey. Cum on my tongue, you can do it,” he encourages, his other hand going to rub at her belly because he knows that more than one orgasm can make or break his wife.
She only shakes her head, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. It feels too good, so good she feels like she can handle it. YN starts to feel tears build in her eyes from the intensity as the ball in her belly only seems to get heavier with each circle of her clit. “Too sensitive,” she whines, slamming her fist down onto the counter again as her entire body begins to feel hot. He’s relentless, though, rubbing even faster at her sensitive nub, holding her even tighter.
“I know, honey. But you can take it. It’s alright, just cum for me. Let it go, you know you can take it,”
She just lies her head down on the cool counter and lets her body begin to surrender to the pleasure. He doesn’t let, going back in and putting his mouth on her again. Her eyes roll back and her whole body locks up, her orgasm washing over her intensely. A broken sob leaves her, and she’s left unable to think as her vision goes black, her mind blank.
The orgasm starts at the tip of her toes, traveling all the way through her body and the tension finally releases out of her, covering his mouth and chin in her cum. Their connection is so intense that just the sound and feeling of her falling apart causes him to cum as well, the warmth spurting out of his throbbing cock, untouched. His hips buck against the back of her leg, and he groans out, still licking her gently to work her through her orgasm. Once they are both back down, he stands up and turns the stove and oven off, not wanting the food to burn. He guides her to the bathroom, cleaning them both up before putting more pajamas on her before placing her in bed, gently pecking her lips.
When she’s all tucked in and comfortable Harry runs downstairs to clean up the kitchen and plates their meals, grabbing some drinks and heading up the stairs.
While he was downstairs, she turned on their current television fixation, ‘Criminal Minds’ and waited for him to come back up. She melts when she realizes he brought their food up, thanking him quietly, and when he slides into bed next to her she kisses him deeply.
“You’re always so good to me. Thank you, baby,” she whispers, running her fingers through his damp curls. He nuzzles into her hand with a hum of contentment before he responds.
“No, thank you. Thank you for always being there for me and just for being everything I could ever ask for. I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together,” he responds, thumbing away some of her tears with a dimpled grin. “Okay, okay. Enough tears, let’s get some food in you before y’get too sleepy,” he chuckles before picking up her plate and passing it to her.
Once they’re finished eating, they take their dishes downstairs, vowing to do them in the morning. They spend the rest of the night cuddling until they fall asleep.
Summary: Harry is the shy boy in school and y/n boyfriend. She gets to know him over the months and see him growing comfortable around her. So comfortable that he’s ready to make love to her for the first time.
Pairing: shy boyfriend!harry x fem!reader
Wordcount: 3,3k
Trigger warnings: soft dom, use of pet names, light teasing, begging, choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, mention of handjob, hair pulling, short mention of scars, protective sex, aftercare
A/N: I don’t write much smut, so it isn’t my best, but it’s soft and caring. Please give me some feedback I appreciate it s lot :) I kinda wanna write more about them
For three months she has been Harry y/n boyfriend. She loves to hang out with him. They always study together at her house or they go on walks.
Y/n noticed how shy he is. When they go out to eat dinner he asks if y/n can order for him. Of course, she says yes. She doesn’t want him to get too nervous around strangers. If he does he picks on his painted fingernails. He’s a good boyfriend, the best she ever had.
Harry hides his hands in the sleeves of his oversized sweaters. That’s one thing she loves about her lover.
Y/n liked him for over two years and finally took the courage to ask him out. She noticed over the two years how he blushed when he talked to his friends about something and often he looked at her. When she was with her ex boyfriend he looked sad and his friends tried to cheer him up all the time. He watched her a lot when she was with his ex lover. He couldn’t help it but always had his eyes on her no matter what.
Harry thought y/n is the most beautiful girl in school. She’s smart, soft, beautiful and so talented. She’s good in art class. He loves her sundresses and her big sweaters. He wants to steal one from her.
There is no reason not to have a crush on her.
"H can I braid your hair?" She asks sweetly. Her eyes scan his face and she sees how his cheeks grew red. It’s adorable to see him like this.
"Y-you want to?" He asks her back in a whisper.
"Mhm, you hide that face too often," and before he knew it his whole face was red. "May I?" She pressed her nose in his temple. He nods. She pulls his grey hood down and can’t help it, but look into his forest green eyes.
Y/n wanted to open his grey cardigan. He laid his hand on y/n. "’M only wearing a shirt, I’ll get cold." His voice comes out in a whisper.
"Okay," she kisses his hot cheek. Y/n love doing his hair. When he allows her girlfriend, she makes her boyfriend some pigtails or braids them. Sometimes she uses just some colourful hair clips. On other days he asks for buns with those colourful hair clips. Sometimes the shy boy asks her to make him some pig tails as well. Harry likes them a lot.
He’s too shy to talk to her on some days, that’s the reason why she always plays music. Y/n parents even talked to her about it and told her to have safe sex. Always use protection and that she doesn't have to do anything that makes her uncomfortable or don’t want to do.
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After four months of being Harry’s girlfriend he opens up more. He’s still shy, but it gets better. He kiss y/n soft hair that smells like flowers. He loves smelling her hair or just watching her doing her make-up. He sometimes asks if he can curl her hair and of course she says yes. Harry loves helping her.
Harry brought his girl home one time to show her where her boyfriend lives. "Mom isn’t home don’t worry," he says walking into the kitchen. "Food?" He asks simple, still nervous.
"A yogurt, if I’m allowed to," he nods, taking the yogurt out of the fridge and a spoon with him upstairs.
She looks around watching him change out of his sweater into a long arm shirt. It’s the first time y/n sees how he’s looking under his long clothes. Y/n never really thought about how he looks under his big clothes, maybe a little belly that would be cute. But she never thought he had a trained back.
Y/n unlocked her phone and started to scroll on instagram she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by looking. "Are ya still hungry?" Harry turns around and looks up at him and shakes her head.
In school her lover let y/n eat with his friends just for a few days in the week. It makes him really nervous. She sat there and ate with them. Harry picked again on his fingernails, "you don’t have to be nervous," she whispers in his ear before kissing him on his cheek. He gives her a simple smile and tangles their fingers.
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Harry’s hugs are big, warm and comfortable. He was so shy, but grew more comfortable around her and touched her. He wanted to share physical touch with her. Harry hugs her now, touches her arms sometimes or kisses her face. Or talks a lot more than she was used to.
Today is a day where her boyfriend wants her to stay at his house. His sister is at home and Harry had to introduce y/n to Gemma. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. Harry mentioned you a lot." He turns shy, again. Gemma hugged her, they talked a lot. The prince stood by the two girls and held y/n hand patiently. Waiting for y/n to come to his room.
When they went into Harry's room he put some music on and asked y/n for pigtails. She did not put two strands in the braids, because it looks cuter.
H almost dropped his phone, when she pressed her soft lips against the delicate skin of his neck. Harry never admitted it, but he loves tiny neck kisses; it was the tingles that ran down his spine. He loved the intimacy of it. A little moan escaped his soft lips.
She was bold for the first time in their relationship. "S-sorry," she whispers and hides in his neck.
Something snapped in Harry’s head. He doesn’t know she feels that way about him. "Don’t hide from me, pretty girl," he turns his body to her. Harry can see how red her cheeks are. Now she knows how he feels around her.
He puts his hand under your chin and gently till’s her head up. "Hi," she smiles.
"Hi," he kisses her forehead. It's strange for her how gentle he holds her face in his big hands. Her eyes are big and glassy. Even with his pig tails he looks dominant. He freed his hair out of the hair ties.
He wraps his fingers with his rings around her throat and squeezes her sides with light pressure. She curls her fingers around his wrist. No one ever choked her. It's new, but it sends a rush through her body. His grip around her throat gets tighter. She can see the pleasure in his eyes just from choking her.
It’s strange to see his dominant side.
"H-harry?" He loses his grip around her throat. He smirks, he grabs her face between his palms to bring her down to his lips, he kisses her softly for the first time. She’s scared to touch him at the moment. The kiss feels so good, but she’s not sure if it’s okay to touch him now.
"Love?" Harry asks.
"Mhm," he chuckles.
"Can I touch you?" His voice is confident. H’s warm hands are smoothing over her hips. She swallows hard, "it’s okay if you don’t want to," he leans in for a second kiss.
"Do you actually like me?" She asks unsure.
"I can’t stop thinking about you for more than two years. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. You’re the best that ever happened to me. You help me a lot. I can’t lose you. I need you in my life. I told my mom about you before we even dated." She hugs him tightly, her eyes are teary. He rubs her back.
"You can," she said quietly, "I‘ve done it only once." She’s insecure about it for no reason. She knows he had more girlfriends in the past so he’s more experienced then her. One of his exes is y/n old friend. She was toxic. Y/n was happy to finally leave her behind. She told her how good he is and what they did even though she knew y/n likes him a lot at that time.
"No sex until you are 100 percent sure," he kisses her temple short. But there is another reason why she feels so insecure about it. "There is still something wrong," he murmured. "What is it?"
Her eyes closed, "you were with Lana and she told me so much stuff, what you did to her." Harry softly kissed her forehead, he stroked her knuckles.
"She was my girlfriend, but I never was intimate with her." Y/n eyes open again. Before her, he wasn’t shy. Maybe she used him, there was a rumour that he has scars on his body. She did something to him. She was never really in love with him. After she left him he was shy and insecure. Her boy won’t be the same. She did something he will never be the same.
She changed him.
"Can we wait a little longer?” He nods short.
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Y/n found out after six months that her boyfriend is shy, but loves to take control in the bedroom.
He often finds an excuse why he needs to see her. Is it for homework or a project he wants to help her mostly it ends in a make out session. All he wants is to taste her lips.
He’s adorable.
H is still so shy around her, but he takes control over her, it makes her feel things. She never thought he could be like this. Not the shy boy.
She loves that about him.
Harry takes y/n out to picnic dates, in the summertime. He surprised her with a lot of dates in the past three weeks. They go book shopping or just go for a walk in the park and feed the ducks.
Harry invited y/n over, he’s alone at home for the next couple of days and he wanted to spend some time with her.
Y/n laid on his bed, he watched the pattern’s of her breathing. He tells her things she never heard before. He asked questions to the ceiling and never knew what she was thinking.
But she liked it, he liked her. He thought a lot about it. He laid his hand on her soft skin and started to stroke her inner thigh, teasingly. He saw how y/n breathing picked up. Her gaze stays on the ceiling above her. His fingers outlined her panties.
Harry loves it when it’s summer and y/n wears skirts and her pretty sundresses. Barney Stinson said it’s never too late to wear sundresses.
"Harry," she whines. His lips leave only a chuckle. It’s mean to tease her, but she looks so cute when she squirms under his touch. He can’t help it.
"Mhm, want me to touch you? Eating you out? You would like that, wouldn’t you?" She nods eagerly. "Words, bunny," he orders.
"Please touch me, need your mouth, please," a smirk grows on his lips. He hooks his fingers in her underwear and pulls her white lace panties down and puts them in his jeans pocket.
He settles his body between her legs and presses some light kisses against her skin. His fingers pull her sundress up to her belly. His plump lips suck eagerly purple bruises into her skin. Y/n reached her hand down to tangle her fingers in between his ringlet’s, "so impatient," he shakes his head and leaves a hickey on her hip bone. His tongue starts with slow board licks, y/n tugs on his hair.
"More please," she whines out. He flicks his tongue skillfully over her clit. She remembers that Harry told her to say what she wants. "C-can you maybe—" she got cut off by a moan.
He lifts his head up, "what do you want to tell me," he teased her by kissing, licking and biting her spread thigh.
"Can y-you maybe, um, suck a-and glide up," Harry nods and hums short. He brings his mouth back down to kiss her clit. The vibrations from the hum shoot through her, with the action she asked for making her eyes roll back in pleasure.
He repeated these actions using the tip of his tongue to play with her clit. All her soft whimpers and moans were music to his ears. He pulled her hips closer to his mouth. One of y/n boyfriend's hands slides down from her soft inner thigh to insert two fingers into her pulsing heat. She immediately clenched down on him. "You taste amazing," he murmurs between each stroke.
Y/n can feel how Harry brings her closer to her climax. "F-fuck…" she whimpers into the air. Her grip on his hair gets stronger, she earns a moan from him. Her legs tighten around his head. "I’m— I’m gonna—" a whiny moan comes over her dedicated lips
"Cum for me, bunny," he said out loud. Some seconds later her mouth leaves pornographic sounds. Y/n eyes are pinched and her mouth hangs open. "Good girl," Harry’s favourite sight. "You okay?" She nods. Harry kissed her hard and shoved his tongue in her mouth to let her taste herself.
“Thank you,” she pulls him down on his neck and keeps him close to her body.
“Can I– can I fuck you?” His voice comes out in a whisper.
“Please,” he opened a brown drawer from his nightstand to look for a condom. Y/n lunches inside, she sees some condoms, lube, tissues and chocolate. “Why chocolate?” She giggled.
“’M hungry after, uh, t–touching myself and too lazy to get something,” his whole face turned red and his voice broke at the end of his sentence. If she asks him, if it’s her she thinks about while doing it, he couldn’t answer her. It's too embarrassing for him. He’ll always be the shy boy around her. Obviously it gets better, but there is a part he always stays like this.
“It’s just me,” she spoke softly to him, kissing his cheeks and seeing some of her juices drip down his chin. “No reason to be nervous, you did amazing.”
“Can I stay dressed? I take off m’jeans and boxers, but not more.” He sounds really insecure, y/n don’t want to ask what it is. Why does he feel like this? She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Of course she accepts him for who he is. She’s in love with him.
She’ll ask him what he has to hide and why he always wears big clothes at some point.
“Can I help?” He murmurs a quiet “yes” She sits up and fumbles with his belt when she finally undid it, he stands up from his bed and pulls his light blue wide jeans down. Her eyes scan his lower half. A long shirt covers his thighs a bit up. It looks out from under his sweater. “You are so pretty,” a shy smile formed on his swollen lips. H, crawled back between y/n legs.
He lets the loose straps from her dress fall down, “no bra, y’know my birthday isn’t anytime soon.” He smirks at chest. He had an obsession with her boobs. He often just grabs them or hides every bra she left at his house, so she never puts one on and Harry just stares at her chest with a shirt on. He loves them.
Y/n dress hung in her middle, Harry’s boxers lay with his jeans on the clean floor. Y/n gave him a lot of handjobs. But they are both horny teenagers. Knowing he will be inside her is intimidating for her. He’s not small.
He tugs a few times on his cock. “You sure about it?” She whispers a “yes” and takes his soft hand in hers. Y/n have seen him a few times but only a amount of times she can count it on her two hands. He opens the condom and rolls it carefully up. Y/n watched him, his pink tongue always pokes out when he concentrates. “We can stop whenever you want,” he pressed a kiss on her forehead. He grabs the bottle of lube, puts some on his hand and spreads it on the condom.
Her lover noticed how her face scrunched up in pain and he stopped. "Bunny? You alright? Do you want to stop?" He whispers in worry, stroking her cheek softly.
“No you’re just massive.”
“Oh bunny, you never had a cock this big?” She shakes her head, “’M sorry that it hurts.” He pouts and tangles their fingers. “I know you can be a good girl and take it.” His thrusts are slow and gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wraps her legs around his waist. His shirt and sweater are ridged up. She looks at his beautiful, soft and innocent skin.
The sunlight was bleeding through his curtains. Some whines and moans escaped both of their lips. He kept the pace filling her up to the brim, pleasure filled both of their systems. Harry peppers kisses around her chest, kitten licks her breast. He teasingly took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked lightly. Each time he did that she moaned. “You are so handsome,” her fingers go through his damp hair.
She wraps her legs tighter around his waist and pulls him in deeper with a soft moan. “You are doing great, angel.” His hand holding her face tilted her up with tenderness, kissing her swollen lips as he ground his hips deeper into her due the new angle.
She stroked his cheekbone, her orgasm came over her. She whines and moans into his mouth and Harry is close too. He can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting. Two more thrusts and he shoots his load into the condom. His head drops to y/n shoulder as he rides his orgasm out.
He stayed for a short moment inside her, “Aww, did I wear you out, love?” She nods lightly and covers her chest up, he then pulls out of her. He throws the condom into the bin and returns with a warm washcloth and wipes the mess between her legs, clean.
Harry helps her to put on some of his boxers and slides the dress down from her middle. He puts a shirt over her body, “I am officially obsessed with your body.” She hasn't seen his body completely yet but she knows it makes him feel good about himself.
“Hungry?” He asks her while pressing soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks.
“Can we eat some chicken nuggets?” She kisses all over his face, brings him down on his neck holding him close. Y/n don’t want him to leave her for bringing food. She knows it’s important for him to take proper care of her.
“I must say I’m the slightest bit offended that we just had the hottest sex ever and you’re thinking about chicken nuggets,” he chuckles and sees the biggest smile on her plump ips. He went downstairs, put some dinosaur nuggets into the oven. When he comes back he sees y/n snuggled up in his bed with his teddy in her arms. “Love, I have your nuggets,” she opens her eyes, lazily grabs the water glass and drinks it. She eats a nugget. Harry ate some as well.
She kisses his chest and murmurs, "you are the best boyfriend ever,” before drifting off to sleep in his arms.
He whispers in her hair, “I love you,” but she didn’t hear it. She’s asleep. “You’re the best that ever happened to me.” He pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her forehead one last time before he falls asleep as well.
warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)
"fuck you, harry."
part I & II
+++
she had slept in her car that night.
more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.
she also felt numb. so, so numb.
after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.
and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.
she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.
“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”
she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.
“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”
“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”
she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought.
as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.
“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”
he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.
“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”
every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.
“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”
+++
8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk.
when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway.
“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped.
y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet.
act normal. act normal. act normal.
“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now.
“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.
she also did.
in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot.
for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart.
oh, what a waste of love, she thought.
“y/n, are you still with us?”
“huh? what?”
people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.
“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.
“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”
she honestly couldn’t care less.
“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”
she smiled. there was no way in hell.
“sure! sounds fun.”
they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.
the question was: who did care about her?
her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever.
she always thought that harry cared.
harry. oh, harry.
harry. harry. harry.
she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.
“I’m gonna use the restroom.”
and gone she was.
her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.
without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment.
“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”
her head shot up. fuck.
her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.
“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”
silence.
“y/n? is that you?”
wait, what? she knew that voice.
she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.
“jane?”
+++
harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.
the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.’ and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.
and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago.
the panic kicked in soon after.
so, he called. and called. and called.
but she never answered.
after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out.
where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.
he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.
though, he hurt her that night.
he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?
when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it.
when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.
he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.
his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.
he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.
‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’
he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’
why do those days feel so far away now?
he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.
‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’
she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams.
in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights.
then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter.
harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.
breakup. breakup. breakup.
the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon.
he needed to go on that run.
so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him.
good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever.
he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.
+++
jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke.
“we can’t go there.”
jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?”
y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”
jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.
y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty.
she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence.
oh, harry. what have you done?
“god, harry. you fucking idiot.”
the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.
“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.
“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”
jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now.
so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold.
y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.
when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.
she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though.
whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?
for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.
the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-
“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”
jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped.
“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!”
she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing.
“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“
“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”
y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.
“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.”
when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?”
y/n nodded.
“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“
“you will not, okay?”
jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”
y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”
jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil.
“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”
+++
it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.
his first phase: hatred.
he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music.
the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.
he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again.
when the crying stopped, the depression came.
heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift, thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion.
his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.
he missed her. so fucking much.
he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.
he missed being able to love her.
he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?
thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy.
he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong?
then, his phone rang.
he checked. it was sarah.
he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.
“hello?”
a sigh of relief left her.
“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”
harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?
then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.
mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?
“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”
without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.”
if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.
“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”
the phone beeped until inevitable silence.
right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now.
harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding.
wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?
+++
5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended
PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO
thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3
i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx
Summary: April comes home to find Harry asleep and not feeling the greatest.
Sickrry
To be fully honest this is like 90% fluff
I really hope you like it. And if you do. If you wanna check out more of my writings, my masterlist is here
No matter how much shit I talk about living in Los Angeles, the one thing that I’m never going to even entertain badmouthing is the ocean.
Even though my favourite colour is green, there isn’t much that beats being able to sit outside with a glass of wine as company to admire the masses of blue that stretch over the horizon.
My adoration for the view had been a fairly big selling point in Harry’s speech when he listed all the reasons why my moving in with him would be a no-brainer.
The speech had honestly been completely unnecessary. I would have said yes to moving into a hole in the ground right next to an airport if that mean living with him.
Lucky for me, I get to live with the love of my life and a view of the sea that sucks the air out of my lungs.
Taking a deep breath, I tear my eyes away from the water. The mesmerizing reflection of the afternoon sun riding the higher points of the waves had me in a spell the same way it always does.
After a rather stressful day, I somehow always end up wandering around the house instead of through the front door when I get home, needing some of that calming blue before I do anything else.
Today had been one of those days. Job interviews will do that do you.
Before Harry had gone to the studio, he had sat me down to have a ‘serious conversation’ with him. He needed to make sure I knew that he was expecting a full report on how the interview goes.
A full report is what I’m prepared to give him as I finally step into our shared home, giddy with pride. Harry had called me to tell me that he would be there when I got home while I was getting a well-needed manicure to destress after the interview.
Home he is.
The first thing I notice when I get into the living room is that the TV is on. An episode of friends filling the silence.
Second thing is that the back of a head of curls is rested on the back of the couch, face out of view.
“Hi, love. How was your day?”, I ask as I put my purse down by the bottom of the staircase before padding across the light wooden floors.
Realisation dawns on me when Harry doesn’t even lift his head at the sound of my voice, but it stays in the exact same position. He’s asleep.
His body lays horizontally across the comfy, grey furniture, his upper back and head propped up with the edge of the sofa and an arrangement of colourful throw pillows. His laptop is open in his lap, but the screen is black, one of his hands splayed over the keyboard and the other one draped across his stomach.
His eyes are closed and his pillowy, pink lips are barely parted. Mocha brown, curly strands of hair fall across his forehead so delicately.
Trying to be as careful as possible so I don’t wake him from his slumber, I reach for the TV remote on the coffee table to shut it off, silence replacing the noise.
Just as I start to retrace my steps back to the stairs to let him sleep in peace, a groggy, “Hi.”, has me stopping in my tracks completely and twisting my head.
Great job, April.
“Am I still dreaming? Or is an angel standing in my living room?”
My eyes widen in surprise momentarily before I burst out laughing. “That’s horrible, H.”, I tell him through tears of laughter, hand over my heart to calm my breathing down again.
“Meanie.” Even though Harry offers me a sad pout at the insult to his horrible attempt at a pickup line, he’s still got that bright glint in his eyes I love so much.
Setting his laptop on the coffee table next to the remote, Harry throws his legs off the sofa and pats the space on his left as a silent request for me to sit down next to him. That’s something I do happily, giving Harry a peck on the lips as I make myself comfortable.
Tucking my legs up on the sofa, I lean into Harry, basking in the feeling of being close to him again. The familiar scent of him has a warm and fuzzy feeling wrapping around my heart as he curves his arm around my back. His fingertips brush comfortingly up and down my side, allowing me to relax further into him.
I take his free hand between mine, absentmindedly playing with his rings as we sit in comfortable silence. Hands in his jean-clad lap. My head rested on his shoulder, the side of his face against the top of my head.
He’s probably got a nose full of hair by now.
“How did it go today?”, Harry asks, his voice courser than normal. “Did she have common sense and realise what a genius my fiancé is?”
A small smile decorates my face when I take my attention away from the hole that’s ripped through the course material of his dark jeans, exposing the tanned skin of his knees and a small part of his thigh.
“Yeah. She’s gonna call me back in to discuss some further details next week.”, I tell him bashfully.
There’s a beat of silence. And then before I even realise what’s happened Harry’s manoeuvred me so I’m fully on my back. A knee planted firmly on either side of my body as Harry peppers my face with kisses, mumbling praises in between them.
His silly, playful mood is infectious, and I can’t help the laughter that falls from my lips as he reaffirms every kind word with a kiss.
After peppering another round of adorable kisses on my flushed skin, I return one to each of his soft cheeks. “Thank you, pretty boy.”
Harry shakes his head, “No need for that. You know I’m always proud of you, right?” His words have a cheesy smile crinkling the corners of my eyes. “And I you”, I return with a tap on his nose. He matches my expression, stars in his eyes as he kisses the tip of my finger.
“Now go get changed before you start complaining about your jeans being uncomfortable.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, I lie through my teeth as Harry removes his body from mine completely. He hums, seeing right through my lie, “Whatever you say.”
Striding away from him and the sofa and up the stairs, I refuse to acknowledge the shit-eating grin I know that Harry is probably sporting right now from being right. For whatever reason, he’s comfortable lounging around in jeans. How the man does it, I genuinely have no idea. I however am the kind of person who can’t get them off quickly enough.
He knows me too well
Once I’m rid of the uncomfortable jeans, I slide a pair of grey sweats up my legs before trading the top I’ve worn all day for one of Harry’s graphic tees.
“So. I was thinking we could watch a movie while we eat?”, is what I hear when I descend the stairs again. Much more comfortable than I was two minutes ago.
My heart swells in my chest as I spot Harry in the kitchen, looking at me expectantly with a plate in his hand and the sound of the microwave telling me what he’s up to. “Are we doing Me Before You or I Feel Pretty?”
Harry takes a moment to ponder over our two options before he shares his decision. “Me Before You.”
Nodding in approval, I take a seat at the kitchen island, resting my chin on my hands folded on the countertop. “How did it go at the studio today? Did you guys figure out that song you told me about the other day?”
“It actually went really well. I think we’re set on pretty much everything. All that was left really when I left was recording the guitar solo. Mitch and Tyler were about to get started on it when i went home. It’s gonna be good.” The pride is obvious in his smile as he switches out the plates in the microwave, crossing his arms above his chest and leaning against the fridge.
I hum approvingly. “You land on a title yet?”
Having a habit of keeping me on my toes and never spilling anything about his new projects, I’m taken by surprise when Harry smirks at me and gives me the answer I was looking for, “She.”
From what he has told me about She, and now the title, I’m fairly certain that this might end up being the death of me. Much like everything else the man does.
“I can’t wait to hear it.”, I tell him seriously. Harry’s cheeks gain a pinker shade, a sheepish smile as he thanks me.
Tutting and shuffling over to him, I tilt my head back to keep eye contact with him to make sure he knows I’m serious. “You are freaking amazing, H. You inspire me every day by just being yourself. I know you’ve been a little bit anxious about experimenting more with your sound and everything. And I am so fucking proud of you for not letting your fears dim your light.”
Seeming at a loss for words, eyes glossy with emotion, Harry wordlessly wraps me up in his tight embrace, burying his face in my neck. I hug him back just as tightly. He doesn't need to say anything and neither do I.
It’s the beep signalling that the food is finished heating that makes us break apart, a soft kiss exchanged before we take one plate of leftover lasagnes each and make ourselves comfortable on the sofa again.
Harry is in the chaise, legs stretched out while I sit cross-legged next to him. We balance our food in our laps, he uses my thigh and knee as a second armrest.
Pressing play on the movie, we make quick work of our meal. I hadn’t even realised just how hungry I was until the first piece of lasagne touches my tongue.
It’s fucking delicious is what it is.
Once we’re done with our dinner, Harry tugs me towards him, letting me cuddle into him.
It’s not really a secret that movie night is a favourite for both Harry and me. We have a rather long list of movies we want to watch, even though more often than not, we circle back to our favourites.
Whenever we’re watching one of our usuals, Harry can never seem to keep from reciting the lines along with the characters with the same emotion and conviction the actor playing has.
No matter what’s on the TV, he’s always needing to have some part of his body touch mine. Whether it’s just a simple hand on a thigh or tangled together the way my hair gets if I don’t brush it out the second I get out of the shower.
There is no need to even have a conversation about what his love language is. Touch.
So who am I to deny him?
I’m shaken out of my thoughts when I feel Harry remove his cheek from the top of my head, tapping my hip to get my attention.
“I’ve gotta get up for a minute, love.”, he explains when he’s got it. I nod, frowning when I notice how pale he looks. Maybe it’s just the reflection from the television that’s making his complexion sickly. “Sure. You feeling ok, Dimples?”
“I’m good. Don’t worry.” He kisses the space between my eyebrow I know is creased right now before he makes a move to get up. But it doesn’t do much to ease the concern as I take over the spot Harry just left.
He shuffles his feet to the drawer next to the sink where we keep our medicine. Observing as he places not just one but two pills from the Advil bottle on his tongue before chugging it down with water. He rubs the side of his temple as he puts the medicine back in its rightful place.
When it comes to Advil, harry barely ever takes two at a time, hating the drowsiness that comes from the pain reliever enough with just one. So the fact that he chooses to swallow two and has kept rubbing his temple, tells me that he’s got a headache worse than he can deal with on his own.
Not that he would admit to it voluntarily.
Opening my arms as an invitation, Harry lays down on his side, putting his head in my lap. The light from the TV highlights the closest points of his face, long eyelashes fanning across the tops of his cheeks as he lets his eyes fall shut.
Just as I redirect my attention back to the movie I had nearly forgotten was playing, Harry nudges the top of my thigh with his nose, “Play with my hair, please.” His eyes are still closed as he lays completely still, arms tucked into his chest.
And so I do. But not before taking the blanket that was folded across the arm of the sofa and draping it over his body. As well as I can, seeing that I can’t do much more than throw the end.
The satisfied hum Harry lets out once I run my freshly manicured fingers through his curls has me suppressing a giggle.
I bet all that I own that having his hair played with is very high on the list of his favourite things from the way he always seems to turn to putty when I do just that.
Before I know it the end credits are rolling along with the tears. My hands are still absentmindedly making little braids only to undo them in his growing hair.
His breathing is deep and even, his body completely relaxed and his nose is buried in the fabric of my sweats as if my lap was a pillow. I don’t even want to try to wake him up. The thought had crossed my mind when I’d first noticed him starting to fall asleep. Just shut the TV off and get his ass in bed. But I decided to just let him doze off completely since it was obvious that he needs it.
Knowing Harry, if he sleeps on the sofa through the night, he’ll be bothered by his neck the whole day.
I take a minute to admire him in awe. He looks so peaceful like this. Like there isn’t a thing in the world that could ever interrupt him and his peace.
Apart from me apparently.
Being as careful as I possibly can, I slide myself further away from him while lowering his head to the cushion, freeing myself so I can get up. After shutting off the TV, the living room now nearly pitch black from the lack of light, I rid Harry of the blanket and fold back over the sofa arm.
“Darling, you gotta wake up.” I caress his cheek tenderly, watching as his eyelids slowly but surely flutter open. “There he is.”
“I wanna sleep.” His pout thankfully melts into a small smile when I kiss his nose.
Before he actually does let himself fall asleep, I take his hand in mine as I get off my knees, a reluctant Harry actually sitting up in the process. His fingers are back to soothing his table and it has an instant feeling of guilt settling in the pit of my stomach.
Pulling him the rest of the way up, I don’t even question it when Harry leans most of his weight on me, arms looping around my waist and his face settling in the crook of my neck.
“Would it make you feel better if I pamper your face how you like?”, I offer. He hums and nods but makes no move to take a step in any direction.
So I remove his arms for him, slinging the closest one around my shoulders as I wrap my own around his waist so he can keep using me as his own personal crutch. Which he does all the way up the stairs, down the hallway, through our bedroom and into our bathroom where he lets go and seats himself on top of the closed toilet seat.
Thankfully the lights were already dimmed, and it doesn’t look like he’s too bothered by them either.
As I’m setting up the products I know are his favourites, I glance over at him every few seconds. He looks like he could sleep for a week and still not be fully rested.
Dark circles and heavy under eyebags are more visible from how dull and pale his skin is. It’s lacking that glow and shine of life that’s always adorned his features as if he was an angel sent from heaven.
I wash my hands before getting his hair out of his face with the use of his fluffy, baby-blue headband.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”, I ask him as I start to cleanse his dampened skin, taking my time to get all that funk out of his pores, careful to keep the product out of his closed eyes. The way he has his head slightly tilted back makes it a lot easier.
“Head hurts.”
It actually feels like someone just took a tug at my heart. And not in a good way. “I’m so sorry, my love.”, I murmur, kissing the top of his head.
Keeping his hands comfortably at my hips as I stand between his legs, Harry just shrugs his shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal. “S’fine.”
He’s full of shit and we both know it.
But knowing him I don’t try to argue and just continue with the task at hand in silence. With the exception of the hums of appreciation every now and then.
Doing his skincare routine for him isn’t going to magically take away his troubles. But if it can put a little bit of pleasure and comfort into the mix, I would happily stand and pamper him for hours on end.
Once he’s all done, I take his headband off for him and with a giggle, I give him the kiss he’s silently asking for by puckering his lips.
Harry watches me with tired eyes and his toothbrush slowly cleaning his teeth as I make quick work of my own nighttime routine.
Even though it’s way earlier than we normally even think about going to sleep, Harry is obviously about ready to throw in the towel where he sits judging by how slowly he’s brushing his teeth. The events and stress of the day have tired me out as well, to be honest.
His mumbled, “I love you”, through a mouthful of toothpaste had me giggling as I returned the sentiment.
Harry tries to help me put everything in its rightful place again, pouting when I tell him to sit his pretty little sick ass right back down again and let me take care of it. If he’d been his usual, not sick, self, he never would’ve listened.
“C’mon, Dimples. Time for bed.” “Yes, ma’am.”
I shake my head at the poor attempt at a smirk the man makes that quickly morphs into a grimace from his headache as I help him back onto his feet.
As if his body knew how close he was to finally be able to lie down and sleep again, the second his eyes lands on his final destination for today, he releases a yawn that makes his eyes all but disappear.
He plops down on top of the duvet, getting to work on shedding off his pink mickey mouse sweater as I slide my sweatpants off my legs and drop all the decorative pillows on the floor with them. Since neither of us bothered with turning on the light when we entered the room, there’s no need to make the short walk to the switch by the door.
“Do you need anything else?”, I ask as I fold back the duvet. I jump in surprise when I feel something hard meet my back the second I stand up only to realise that it’s just Harry when he hugs me to his chest and kisses the top of my head.
Swaying us slowly from side to side, he murmurs against my hair, “All I need is you.”
The butterflies that are going crazy from just how much I love this man in my stomach, stay there.
They keep buzzing around long after the warmth of the duvet envelops our bodies. The kiss goodnight Harry laid on my lips didn’t make them go away. They only increase when Harry nestles his face into my chest with his arm slung across my stomach. As if those little creatures could feel just how close he was.
I’m pretty sure they kept floating around long after I drifted off to sleep.
