harry styles // one shots

sing to us (f/p)

In which Y/N is desperate for a good night of sleep at 7 months pregnant, and Harry just wants to help - wc: 1,600+

Harry's fingers tapped lightly at my bare stomach, my shirt - actually his that I stole so long ago it was just principle that it was mine now - having ridden up over my swollen belly. His thumb gently massaged over the curve of my stomach, his lips pressing a few feathery kisses to my collarbone from where his head remained tucked into my neck. My slightly swollen fingers were encased by his messy locks, curls perfectly wrapped around my skin.

He needs a haircut soon, I thought. My nails scratched lightly at his scalp, eliciting a quiet hum from his lips.

"Lovie," I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Need t'get goin' soon." Harry only grumbled in response.

It was hard to hide how tired I was in my voice, likely having only gotten an hour or two of good sleep last night. I had heard sleep was hard to come by while pregnant, and in the first few months I brushed it off as an old wives tale, something I hadn't experienced so it must have been false information.

By the time I hit 5 months, it was a bit harder to get comfortable at night, but after an hour of tossing every few minutes and a very, very patient husband by my side, I managed to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep with Harry's arms holding me close.

Then I hit 6 months. One hour of tossing around to find a comfortable position quickly turned into two, or some nights three. Other nights I couldn't sleep because I wasn't tired due to crashing and taking a 4-hour nap too late in the day.

Now we are on the tail end of month 7. Most nights, no matter if I found a comfortable way to lay next to Harry or not, I couldn't concentrate enough on trying to fall asleep because I could only focus on the discomfort I felt in my belly. The kicking, moving around, pressure and slight pain felt on all my internal organs was enough to make me want to cry. Some nights I did. Cradling my swollen belly as our baby danced around my womb, whispering quietly as to not wake Harry. Why won't you just quiet down, let me sleep, please, I would plead with our unborn child.

Harry felt horrible for me, he wanted to help, wanted to take the discomfort away and let me get a good night's sleep. It wasn't his fault, but he felt horrible he couldn't do anything to help me.

I could only hold his face and kiss him gently when he got huffy and pouty, reassuring him that I was going to be okay.

On this Sunday morning, Harry and I made plans with Gemma to grab brunch. We were trying to make more plans with family and friends now knowing that once the baby comes we wouldn't be seeing a lot of people for a while. Obviously we would still be seeing Gemma often, she had already insisted on being our go-to babysitter and I know Harry and I will be needing her and Anne's extra help in the first few months, but seeing family in the context of I'm drowning in responsibility and need you to bail me out and watch my child so I can get some peace and quiet is a bit different than spending quality time together.

"Harry," I spoke again, "We need to get up, love."

He retrieved his head from its place against my neck, looking up at me through thick eyelashes, sleep coating his emerald green eyes. He looked most beautiful in this state.

"Don't wanna," he mumbled. "Jus' wanna keep layin' here with you."

I giggled, kissing his forehead again, "We have plans with Gemma, remember?"

He sighed heavily, tapping his fingers along my swollen belly once again, "I know. Fine. But I want cuddles later."

I rolled my eyes at his child-like mannerisms, giggling as his lips ghosted over my cheek, refusing to give me a kiss until I agreed.