Fairies First
PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R (itâs smutty!) WORD COUNT: 5.7k REQUESTED: sorta lol
hello, tis i with yet another domestic, smutty one shot!!! i rly hope u guys like this :-) if u enjoy it, please dont hesitate to reblog or to let me know what u think! [feedback] [masterlist]
~*~
Youâre humming a soft tune, sitting on the couch and folding some of Harryâs clothes. On the screen in front of you, a very frazzled bride is trying to pick out the ideal wedding dress. Every so often, a bridesmaid will coo or gasp, and your eyes flick up to the screen to see what all the fuss is about. Youâve already nodded along in acceptance of some dresses, but others have been downright revolting.
Like the one that sheâs trying on now.
âToo fluffy,â you say to no one in particular, grimacing as the bride arranges the petticoat of the dress. âIt makes her look like a chicken.â
But the bridesmaids are squealing and the bride is grinning maniacally, and your heart plummets when you realize that sheâs going to wear that monstrosity as she walks down the aisle. You shake your head, dropping your gaze back down to where youâre folding a pair of Harryâs boxers. âOh, noâŠâ
You hear the rest of the women fawning over the dress and close your eyes. The garment just isnât your cup of teaâif it were your wedding, youâd have a beautiful number, nothing too fancy, just enough to please you and to compliment all of your assetsâŠ
You swallow down the lump in your throat, sighing quietly. As if it can sense the plummeting of your mood, the small creature inside of you doles out a blunt kick, and you gasp, clutching the underside of your bump. âWhatâre you doing in there, hmm?â you murmur, rubbing the spot.
In response, your unborn baby shifts again, and you groan lightly. âWhatâs wrong? Why arenât you being good for Mummy?â You pause, tenderly patting your bump. âMissing your daddy, huh? Donât worry, heâll be back soon. He just went to go get us some food so that we can make sure you become big and strong.â
For a few moments you stay like that, rubbing your swollen belly and smiling softly, the thought of weddings fleeing from your mind. Eventually though, youâre snapped out of your blissful stupor when the bride erupts into squeals, declaring that sheâs going to buy that absolute miscreation of a dress. You grumble in disappointment, muttering something about having had âhigh hopesâ for her.
âLetâs go,â you tell your bump, reaching for the remote. A moment later, the television screen goes dark, and you stand slowly, collecting all of Harryâs underwear and bunching them up in your arms (but careful as not to wrinkle them, of course).
You trudge out of the living room and make your way to the base of the steps. Itâs still early enough into your pregnancy that youâre not waddling around and needing help to climb staircases, so you conquer the steps with ease (though youâre panting a bit more than usual when you reach the top). You enter the bedroom that you share with Harry, walking over to his nightstand to put away the many pairs of boxers that are still clutched in your arms.
A few of his rings lay scattered haphazardly on the small table. Your eyes are drawn to the way they glint in the sunlight, and all of your worries and doubts come flooding back. You sigh, chancing a glance at your left hand; your fourth finger remains barren and simple.
Was he ever going to ask?
The question has been gnawing at you for months now.
It started when youâd found out you were pregnant. Harry had been ecstaticâhis smile had seemed permanently etched into his face. He had been all over you for the first few monthsâŠin fact, he still is. âJust so beautiful carrying my child, love,â he always tells you earnestly, âMakes me wanna lay in bed and love on you all day.â
You definitely wouldnât object.
Youâre carrying his child, for Christâs sake. Youâre practically married already, living a domestic life and doing domestic things, like going out and fetching fast food, or folding each otherâs laundry. But for you, something feels incomplete without that small piece of jewellery on your left hand. Youâre scared that he doesnât share your desires, and that he doesnât want to take that next step. Youâre happy with himâso fucking happyâbut you just want to beâŠhis.
Irrevocably and irreplaceably his.
You frown gently, reaching for the handle on his nightstand. Youâve pulled the drawer halfway out when two firm arms wrap around your midsection, the hands attached settling nicely onto your stomach. You nearly drop the folded clothing, twitching in surprise.
âYou scared me!â you say breathlessly, and youâd put your hand on your heart if it werenât for all of the fabric tucked into your arms.Â
Harry chuckles, pressing a gently kiss to your cheek before following it with several playful pecks to the column of your neck. For a moment you stand there, closing your eyes and swaying slightly as he rubs his palms over your belly in a greeting to your unborn child.
âShe was kicking before,â you say airily, distracted by the way Harry ghosts his lips along your skin.
He hums in surprise. âWas she now? Always waits âtil her daddy is gone, the little rascal.â
âShe can hear you,â you tell him matter-of-factly. Harry smiles.
âWell, in that caseâŠâ
He circles around you, nudging his underwear drawer shut and reaching for the laundry that is still clutching tightly in your arms. You hand it over to him, and he merely sets it all down on the bed before dropping to his knees with a quiet thud. Your heart somersaults in excitementâyou love it when he does this.
âHi there, tiny fairy,â Harry murmurs, putting both of his palms back on your stomach, âHope youâre not giving your mummy a rough time. Sheâs doing the best she can.â He grins up at you teasingly, and you scoff in mock-offense.
âShut up,â you laugh, but one of your hands twines into his hair, fingers braiding through the soft curls and nails scratching his scalp gently. Harry closes his eyes happily, making a satisfied grunt in the base of his throat. He presses his forehead against your bump before kissing softly at the skin of your stomach.
âDaddy loves you so much,â he stresses, âJust a few more months, and then weâll get to meet you. Hope youâre excited, because your mum and I? Weâre over the fucking moon.â
âHarry!â you scold, pulling at his hair in admonishment.
âOh, come off it!â he says, shrugging in protest, âSheâs never awake whenever Iâm around anyways. Itâs not like she heardââ
Heâs cut off by your gasp of pain when your baby delivers a powerful kick to the spot right where Harryâs palm is covering your stomach. Harryâs eyes widen, and his mouth pops open in surprise. He looks up at you, almost as though to ask if youâd felt that too (which you had, of course). You let out a small, disbelieving laugh in response, and immediately his forehead is back against your belly.
âIâm sorry for swearing at you,â he says quickly, âDidnât know you were up, youâre never usually moving when daddyâs here. Thank you, my tiny fairy.â
For a long moment, thereâs only silence. And then you sniffle, and Harry looks up, finding your eyes wet with tears.
âHey,â he says, âStop that.â
âI canât help it!â you say, laughing and crying at the same time, âItâs the hormones!â
Harry chucklesâyouâve come to blame everything on the hormones. Itâs become a running joke between the two of you. Once, when youâd been upset with him for not washing the dishes, heâd claimed that he hadnât done in because of the hormones; youâd both been so caught off guard with his rebuttal that you couldnât stop laughing (heâd apologized afterwards, of course, and you hadnât had an issue with the dishes since).
âAlways babbling on about the bloody hormones,â Harry rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless.Â
You tuck a short curl behind his ear before cupping his jaw gently. He grunts as he stands, his hands finding your hips and his mouth seeking yours as soon as heâs close enough. You humour him and sigh happily against his lips, and for the moment, all your doubts are forgotten.
âBetter get your cute bum downstairs,â Harry mumbles once you finally pull back, âBrought you food, didnât I?â
âAs if I need to gain more weight,â you groan. The spot between Harryâs brows crinkles as he frowns at you, his lips settling into a faint scowl. He wraps his arms around you, tilting his head to the side and giving you a fleeting yet disapproving look.
âCarrying my child,â he reminds you, âAnd youâve never been sexier. You know how hard it is for me to not just throw you down on this bed and lickâ,â he kisses your neck, ââevery inch of your body?â
Your eyes flutter shut when he sucks softly on your collarbone, and your hands tangle in his hair. âI wouldnât complain,â you breathe out airily, and his chuckle makes his lips vibrate against your throat.
âEat first,â he says firmly, pulling back and smirking as you pout. âGotta keep your energy up if you wanna go all night.â
~*~
Itâs a few days later when you let it slip.
You donât mean to, really. Itâs just that Harryâs head is on your lap, and your fingers are running mindlessly through his hair, and youâre watching yet another anxious bride search tirelessly for her perfect wedding dress. The show makes Harry perk up, and he turns so that heâs facing the ceiling and starts telling you all about how one of his good mates is getting married soon and that youâve both been invited to the wedding, and hopefully your tiny fairy doesnât decide to make a guest appearance at the ceremony.
âTheyâre getting married?â you say, your mouth twisting into a wry smile. The next words that leave your mouth havenât been thought through, and they slide out before you can stop them. âGuess weâre gonna be the last ones then, huh?â
Harryâs good-natured smirk slips from his face, leaving behind an expression of shock. You mimic the look, gasping and clapping your hands over your mouth. Itâs futile, thoughâthe damage has been done. Your eyes go wide, and your heart starts beating rapidly, thumping against your chest in panic. For a moment, everything is silent.
And then Harry swallows convulsively and asks with a quiet, hoarse voice, âWhat?â
âIâIâm sorry,â you breathe, afraid to pull your hands away from your mouth for fear that you might make things worse. âJustâoh Godâjust forget I said anything, itâs notââ
âNo,â Harry cuts you off, grunting faintly as he sits up. He peers at you from over his right shoulder, and you can see him closing up; heâs curling into himself, his brows are knitting together, and heâs looking at you with a wary, cautious expression.
âYou said it,â he says slowly. âIâm not about to fuckinâ forget that.â
You usually brush off the curses that leave his lips, but the swear is so much more frightening given the tension that youâve created. Your body floods with panic and your cheeks begin to burn as your eyes suddenly well up with tears.
âIâm sorry,â you repeat, sniffling quietly. You hate yourself for cryingâitâs the fucking hormones, it always is.
âShit, whatâre you doing?â Harry grits out. He shifts so that his body is now facing you and wraps you up in a tight hug. You cling to the material of his t-shirt and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply in hopes of calming yourself down. Harry shushes you softly, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of your head.
âIâm not upset with you,â he tells you, his large palms sweeping up and down your arms, âChrist, love, breathe for me.â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry.â Apparently, those are the only words youâre capable of saying. âI donâtâit just slipped out, Iâm soââ
âItâs okay, itâs alright,â Harry says. His words are comforting, but you can still hear the strain in his voice. It makes you recognize just how badly youâve messed up. Your lips had acted before youâd had a chance to filter through your thoughts, and now youâre afraid that a wedge has been driven between the two of you. Any hope that he may share your desires is slowly fizzling out, squashed by his initial, alarmed reaction.
âAre you gonna leave me now?â you blubber. Youâre being idiotic, but you canât help it. âDid I scare you off? Are we over?â
âWhat?â Harryâs voice rises with incredulity. He pulls back, gripping your arms tightly and giving you a stern glare. âWhat the hell are you going on about? Scaring me off? Fuckinâ rubbish, that is.â
He cradles your cheeks in his large hands, thumbs wiping away at the few tears that have streaked down your face. Your eyes are red and puffy, but theyâre watching him intently, trying to figure him out. Harry knows how you get when you canât read himâyou overreact and jump to conclusions and lose control.
âI love you,â he stresses, leaning in so that he can sear the words into your brain. His right hand drops to spread over your swollen stomach. âAnd I love her. Iâm not going anywhere.â
âBut Iâ,â you start, but he cuts you off before you can finish, giving you a stern look that tells you he wonât endure any more of your nonsense. You bite your lip, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes; his hand is still resting comfortably on your belly, and his gaze softens when your eyes meet. You reach forward with shaky hands, your fingers gripping the hem of his cotton t-shirt and keeping him close.
âDonât cry,â Harry murmurs, pulling you in. You nestle your face into the column of his throat, curling up against him. Itâs clumsy and difficult, but you manage. Somehow, you always manage.
He holds you in silence for a good ten minutes, waiting until your heartbeat has slowed and the tear tracks on your cheeks have dried. Youâre breathing evenly now, eyelids heavy as sleep threatens to overtake you. It seems that Harry can sense this, though, because heâs suddenly shifting and rubbing your thigh gently to rouse you.
âCâmon, up you get,â he says quietly. You make a surprised sound low in your throat but allow him to pull you up. He intertwines both of your hands with his and tugs you along to the base of the staircase.
âWhere are we going?â you mumble as he positions you in front of him and holds onto your hips, nudging you forward. You climb the steps, his large hands warm on your sides and squeezing appreciatively every few seconds.
âUpstairs,â Harry says, amusement palpable in his voice. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but a small, shy chuckle leaves your lips anyways.
He leads you to your shared bedroom once you reach the top of the staircase. Your brows are furrowed and you have no idea whatâs going on, but Harry seems set in his plan. You wish more than anything heâd just tell you what heâs got hidden up his sleeve.
âWas gonna wait,â he tells you, sitting you down at the edge of your king-sized bed. He pushes your thighs apart, crouching between them and delivering a smacking kiss to your bump. You fix him with a confused stare, your lips curving down into a puzzled frown.
âWhat are you going on about?â
âShh,â he soothes, leaning forward so that he can plant a soft yet enthusiastic kiss to your lips. He cups your face in his hands and you swear you can feel your body going lax. His affection pacifies you, steals the tension from your body before you have a chance to stiffen in surprise.
âWas gonna wait,â he repeats, pulling back and grunting quietly as he pushes himself to his feet. He walks over to his bedside table, pulling open the top drawer and rifling through it. After a few seconds, he seems to find what heâs looking for, and he holds the object behind his back as he nudges the drawer shut and turns to face you.
âWait for what?â you ask.
âNext month,â he hums, âOn our five-year mark. Wanted it to be special, yâknow?â
He resumes his previous position between your thighs, but this time, heâs on one knee.
âHarryâŠ,â you say, your eyes wideningâthe rest of your sentence is non-existent.
âJust let me do this, will you?â he chuckles, and you clamp your mouth shut. Truthfully, youâre gratefulâyou donât know what you would have said anyways.
âSo, yeah,â he continues, clearing his throat and shrugging out the tension in his shoulders. You smile, looking down as he produces a small, black box from behind his back. The item looks so tiny nestled in his right hand, and you canât help the small laugh that bubbles up in your throat. Harry chuckles, shooting you a mock-glare. âIâm trying to be serious here!â
âI know, I know, Iâm sorry!â you say, covering your face with your hands. Harry grins, leaning in and brushing his nose against your forearms imploringly. You drop your hands, your right palm falling subconsciously to the swell of your stomach. Harryâs eyes are bright and hopeful when you meet his gaze, and you nod at him encouragingly.
âChrist, I love you,â he says, sighing happily, âI love you so goddamn much, and I wanna make you my wife. I donât have a speech prepared, âcause I thought Iâd have at least a month left to think of something.â He gives you a pointed glare, but his lips twitch upwards and you giggle.
âSo Iâm sorry if this isnât the best proposalâŠor if itâs not what you had cooked up in that stubborn head of yours,â he chuckles, âPlus, I know it might not be the best time, what with our tiny fairy on the way, butâŠI wanna marry you. And I think you wanna marry me too.â
You both laugh.
âSoâŠ,â Harry trails off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and glancing down as he opens the tiny velvet box. Your breathing hitches in your throat when you catch sight of the beautiful diamond ring resting snugly inside. You look up at him with shining eyes, a beaming smile carved into your face. Harry swallows, his eyes flicking up to glance at your face.
âWill you marry me?â
~*~
You canât stop staring at the jewel thatâs sparkling prettily on your finger. Every time Harry catches you peeking down at the ring, he teases you (âWanted something bigger, didnât you?â) and dodges the half-hearted swats that you deliver to his shoulder. Itâs mindless banter, though, and truthfully, you canât think of a better man to marry.
You tell him this a few days after his proposal. Heâs in front of you, crouched down and sorting through several discs as you decide which movie you should watch (you had turned down his offer of The Notebook, because really, how has he not gotten bored of it yet?). Harryâs mumbling quietly, listing a few of the choices, and youâre staring at the way his back muscles move fluidly under the material of his white button-up. You bite your lip when he yawns and stretches, and your thighs tense.
âIâm really happy Iâm marrying you,â you say absentmindedly, the thought slipping out. Harry freezes, setting down a copy of Notting Hill and turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow.
âYeah?â
âYeah,â you nod firmly, and he chuckles, abandoning his search for a film in favour of crawling over to where youâre sitting comfortably on the couch.
âWhat prompted this?â he asks, placing his forearms on your thighs and gazing up at you with twinkling eyes. You shrug, tucking a brown curl behind his ear and proceeding to run your fingers through his hair, nails scratching gently along his scalp. He closes his eyes for a moment, humming happily.
âDunno,â you say, âIâm justâŠIâm gonna have the most caring, most genuine, sweetest, sexiest husband in the world.â
ââSexiest husband in the worldâ?â he asks, grinning up at you (because of course thatâs the only part that he would catch). You donât reprimand him for his cheekiness, though, instead choosing to play along and nod with a smirk on your face.
âIn the world,â you stress, fingers tugging lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck. Harry snickers. âI like the sound oâ that. âS quite the title to live up to, though.â
âGuess youâll have to practice, then,â you say, spreading your legs invitingly. Harryâs eyes widen, and his jaw drops when he finally catches on.
âYou little minx!â he accuses, a loud laugh falling from his mouth, âSo, this all just a plan to seduce me? Hmm?â
âI meant it!â you tell him, snickering into your palms, âBut, likeâŠI just need you to fuck me,â you pause and smile before adding, âItâs the hormones.â
âWell then,â Harry chuckles, lifting himself up so that he can plop down next to you on the couch, âCanât say no to the hormones, can I?â
âNo, you canât,â you hum, leaning in happily to meet him for a kiss.Â
It starts off slow, with gentle movements and soft pecks that make you both giggle, and hands that rest sweetly on your cheeks, like how they had when he kissed you after your second date (âWho kisses on the first date? Fuckinâ wankers, thatâs who.â)
After a few minutes, though, Harryâs got you panting, chasing his lips desperately when he pulls away to gulp in air because in his haste to love on you, he sometimes forgets to breathe. You whine when one of his hands sneaks up your baggy t-shirt, skirting past the swell of your stomach and gently cupping your left breast in his hand.
âS-sensitive,â you remind him, and he nods. His other hand veers off in the opposite direction, fitting snugly against your cunt over the comfy legging that youâre sporting. Harry swears when he feels a slightly damp patch, looking at you incredulously.
âSoaked through?â he asks, and you whimper in response. He sighs, closing his eyes. âOh, pet. Been neglecting you. Iâm sorry.â
You shake your head before he kisses you again, because how could he ever neglect you? He treats you so well, always putting your needs before his own, sometimes to the point of you telling him off for it. You gasp against his lips and he smiles softly, fingers hooking underneath the cup of your bra so that he can run his thumb over your nipple.
âWhat do you reckon?â he pants, smirking, âShould we do it on the couch? Itâs got a bit of a juvenile element to it, dunnit? Necking like teenagers whoâre alone for the first time?â
ââS dirty,â you moan out, and Harry chuckles, kissing your jawline hard.
âYou like it dirty,â he mocks, âRemember the patio? Itâs where she was conceived, innit?â His hand falls to curve over your belly as the other one hooks into the hem of your leggings, beginning to pull them down your hips.
âWeâwe donât know that for sure,â you mumble as you try to help him pull off your pants. Finally, the fabric is bunched up at your ankles, and Harry pulls it off with a dramatic flourish that makes you giggle. He swears quietly when he sees the cute panties youâre wearingâbaby pink with a white lace trim.
âGonna be the death of me, I swear,â Harry mutters, âYou know how much I love pink.â
You laugh.
He leans forward, rucking up your t-shirt over your stomach and chest before pulling it off swiftly, and then carefully undoing the clasp of your bra. You let the straps fall down your shoulders before removing the undergarment, hissing slightly at how sore your breasts feel. Theyâve become far more tender, obviously, but watching the way Harryâs eyes light up when he sees them makes your self-confidence skyrocket (not that he didnât love them before your pregnancy. Now, he just pays them a little extra attention every time you get naked.)
âThese are gonna feed our child,â Harry mumbles, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles against the soft skin, âGonna make her big and strong, they are.â
âWhatâre you gonna do with them in the meantime?â you tease, lifting an eyebrow. Harry chuckles, leaning down.
ââM gonna kiss every inch of them,â he says firmly, before he gets to work and does just that. His lips are soft as they sponge kisses along your skin, your previous warning about being sensitive still echoing in his ears. Heâs gentle and graceful, and you gasp when he takes your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud. Usually, heâd suck, but youâre at the peak of receptiveness and he doesnât want to do anything that might hurt you.
âCan you pleaseâ,â the rest of your sentence dissolves into a blissful sigh. Harry pulls his mouth awayâmuch to your dismayâand looks at you with inquiring eyes.
âNeed you inside,â you whimper quietly, placing your right palm on his cheek. Your other hand plays with his hair, sweeping it back and out of his face, twirling strands around your index finger, dancing your nails along the shell of his ear. Harry angles himself forward so that he can kiss you, his lips colliding with yours messily.
When you manage to shimmy off your underwear, Harry tosses them behind him, shrugging his shoulders and making you laugh. He grins sheepishly, and you reach for the buttons that clasp the material of his shirt together. You undo each one quickly while Harry works at thumbing open the button on his jeans.
âBloodyâŠfuckinâ thingâ,â he mutters as you desperately push his button-up off his shoulders. He discards the shirt before standing and wrestling his pants down his thighs.
âHurry up,â you whine, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. Harry tuts at you, but you can see that heâs becoming just as frustrated, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed in concentration. You both breathe out sighs of relief when heâs finally naked, and he climbs back onto the sofa, hovering over you and pausing.
âYou wanna be on top?â
You turn the offer over in your head before nodding. âYeah, thatâd probably be best.â
Harry lets out a breathless laugh, and after a few seconds and awkward, clumsy shuffles, youâre straddling his waist. You shiver and close your eyes when your cunt brushes up against him, stimulating your clit and giving you the pressure that you crave. Harry holds onto your hips, his fingers dimpling your skin as he tries to arrange you above him.
âCâmon, love,â his voice has taken on a slightly pleading quality, âWant you to ride me. Can you do that for me?â
âYes,â you breathe, shifting down his body slightly so that your bodies are aligned. With delicate fingers, you pick up his cock, rubbing your thumb over the tip and reveling in the hiss that leaves his mouth. You run your index finger along a prominent vein, glancing up to watch his reaction. His eyes are closed, head slanted back and lips forming around silent words. He groans when you make a firm fist around his shaft, lifting your body so that you can angle him beneath you.
Twin sighs escape your mouths when you finally sink down onto him. Youâre soaked, making the transition easy and graceful. Thereâs a slight pinch as he stretches you, but youâve always chalked that up to his sizeâheâs long and thick, and you always feel undeniably full whenever he takes you in this position.
âOh, God,â you murmur, more so to yourself than to him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you give an experimental roll of your hips. Harry hisses, his fingers digging into the excess skin at your sides, and his eyes shoot open, a look of panic on his face.
âDonât!â he exclaims, his voice cracking pathetically, âDonât, Iâmâfuck, gimme a minute.â
âOkay,â you concede breathlessly, pausing on top of him. Your hands fall to his abdomen, and you can feel where his muscles clench spastically. Heâs practically pulsing inside of you, and he has yet to relinquish your waist from his unforgiving hold. A burst of pride flares up inside of you, warming your chest as you realize that youâre the reason for which heâs been rendered so helpless.
âOkay, love,â Harry grits out, and you want to pout when he releases your hips; but then his hands fall to your thighs, and you decide that youâre okay with the action. âBe a good girl and ride me.â
You donât need to be told twice.
Itâs messy and sloppy and quick and passionate, but Harryâs eyes never leave your own. How could you possibly force yourself to look away when heâs staring at you like that, with determination and lust and fervour brewing just beneath the surface? When his hands roam up and down your thighs until he ultimately canât handle how far you are from him? When he finally sits up, spreading his palms across your ass and pressing his forehead to yours as you wind your arms around his neck? How could you possibly tear your eyes from him?
You let out a frail whimper when Harry kneads your backside and begins to shallowly force his hips up into yours. Heâs stretching you deliciously, blunt nails digging small crescents into the plump skin of your bum, and you canât help but to tilt your head back as you gasp. Harry takes the opportunity to lean in, nipping and sucking at your neck, careful not to bite too hard. He kisses up your throat and moves along your jawline, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear and whispering words that are tainted with pure, unadulterated filth.
âFeel me deep, yeah, love?â his breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel how your nipples pebble in reaction to each syllable that leaves his sinful lips, âGot every inch of me inside, didnât you? Always take me so well, ever since the first time.â
âC-Can feel you,â you mumble, eyes rolling up in your head when the head of his cock brushes against a sensitive spot inside of you.
Harry chuckles, nosing a strand of your hair out of the way before pressing his lips firmly to your temple, speaking quietly but fiercely against your skin. âDoing so good for me. Just wanna stay inside you all day. Can I do that? Can I keep you on me âtil tomorrow?â
The thought, as absurd as it is, makes you moan wantonly. Harryâs mouth has always beenâfor lack of a better wordâobscene, and often, heâs able to fluster you and make you cum with just his words. Itâs a skill that he alone possesses, and he takes pride in knowing that youâre so easy for it whenever his vivid imagination and throaty rasp present themselves in the bedroom (or any other room where he decides that he needs you right now).
âHarry,â you say softly, falling forward and pressing your forehead against his shoulder. He takes full control, then, hands resuming their original position on your hips as he guides you up and down and helps you circle on his cock. Youâre limp in his arms, a tight knot curling hotly in the pit of your stomach, and everything is heightened. Youâve always been especially quick to cum whenever Harryâs involved, and your pregnancy has only helped you reach your high at an alarmingly rapid rate.
Harry can feel when youâre teetering on the edge, based on the way you shiver in anticipation and how your shoulders tense. His right hand snakes around your torso before heâs pressing a gentle thumb to where your clit is throbbing and begging for attention. The simple nudge is enough, and he wraps his arms around you when you cry out and begin to tremble in his lap.
âYouâre there, youâve got it,â he whispers the encouragements into your ear, a palpable warmth spreading from his groin to his thighs, and before he knows it, heâs letting out a guttural groan and slumping forward, burying his face into your hair. He inhales deeply, smelling the sweet, fruity scent of your shampoo and clamps his eyes shut as his cock jerks within you before he cums, twitching and pulsing and squeezing you tight.
He whines when you try to dismount him a few minutes later, shaking his head and burrowing into your neck. âNot yet,â he slurs, blinking lethargically, âWannaâwanna keep you close.â
You smile tiredly, humouring him and staying in that position for a little while longer, until heâs gone completely soft inside of you and you can feel a bit of him leaking out and trailing down your inner thighs.
âHarry,â you whine, âI gotta get cleaned up.â
âI know, Iâm sorry,â he says, pulling back and letting out a sigh, âLetâs go.â
~*~
Later that night, when youâre toeing the line between sleep and consciousness, you feel Harry shift beside you and nudge his way down the bed. Your eyes flutter open only slightly, and in your groggy state, itâs hard to decipher exactly what heâs trying to do. Youâre still breathing evenly, but somewhere in your conscious mind, your heart somersaults when he lays his head onto your stomach.
ââM marrying your mum,â Harry murmurs, his fingers tapping idly along the swell of your stomach, like heâs trying to communicate with your baby using some kind of secret sequence. âDunno when, obviously. Itâs probably gonna be after you come along, âcause then weâre gonna have to take care of you.â He chuckles to himself. âBut Iâm gonna marry her.â
And with that, he presses a soft kiss to your belly before sighing quietly, nuzzling his head against your thighs and settling down for the night.
~*~
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