in which...

...y/n rides harry's fingers

In which Y/N rides Harry's fingers

request: hiiii. i was wondering if you would write something about y/n riding harry's fingers? super smutty ty🥺

oh I like this idea a lot!!

"Baby..." Such a whiny little thing.

"Yes, pretty?" Harry exhales, rolling over onto his back, her knee pressing into his hip from where she tried to quite literally crawl on top of him.

"Take care of me." Y/N pouts, her hands slipping underneath Harry's pajama shirt, seeking the warmth of his skin on her cold fingertips.

He blinks tiredly, lips smacking, eyes heavy from having just been woken up by his tipsy girlfriend trying to unceremoniously climb in bed next to him.

"How many bevies d'you have, hm?"

"Many." She presses her face into his shoulder and Harry musters enough force to cradle her in his arms.

"That's a good number."

"Harry." It's a whisper in his ear. He hums. "Harry." A louder hum in return. "Harryy..." He sighs.

"What is it, darling?" His eyes are completely shut at this point, his body screaming at him to just go back to sleep.

"I'm wet."

It takes Harry's eyes a good few seconds to adjust from how quickly he snapped them open, his head feeling a little light. He wets his lips and places a hand at the nape of Y/N's neck, trying to get her to look at him.

"Wet as in it's raining and you forgot your umbrella, or wet as in..."

Instead of replying she exhales almost as if in frustration and reaches for his wrist, not so gently pushing his hand underneath her dress, letting him get a feel for it himself. Oh.

"I take it it's not exactly pouring outside right now then."

The only response he gets is a slow grind of her hips down onto the pads of his fingers that he has placed on the front of her underwear. And it is quite positively soaked.

"You're so stupid sometimes."

Y/N gasps a little when Harry's fingers slip her panties to the side, getting a feel for it without any material in between. The slide is smooth.

"Woke me up less than two minutes ago, not exactly on my best game right now." He grunts, adjusting her so she's sitting on his thigh instead of his hip, and he props his head better on the pillows.

"Are you gonna help or not?" Her tone is frustrated, but the message is clear. She needs him.

His fingers sink in very easily down to the last knuckle from the first try. It usually takes him a lot longer to open her up. But then again, she's not usually this wet to begin with. He wishes his mind wasn't so tired right now so he could properly enjoy this. Her response comes in the form of a light mewl, fingers gripping on the hair at the back of his head. He wants to taste her lips.

"What's got you like this?" He questions, ever so slowly moving his two fingers back and forth, curling them just the way he knows she loves.

"Was thinking 'bout – oh right there! – thinking of y-you." He hums curiously, his wrist beginning to cramp up from the uncomfortable angle.

"What about me, bunny?"

The slide is so easy, so smooth and velvety he can't help in his daze but slip another digit along the other two, the fit a lot tighter now, but also making Y/N moan a lot more blissfully than before at the newfound fullness.

"J-Just...you. And- oh! H-How good you looked last night. A-And how I can't – I can't wait to marry you."

The night before was the one in which they finally broke the news to their friends and family about their engagement. It's new, such a delicate thing, so precious to both of them, Harry sometimes still feels giddy whenever he gets to introduce her as his fiancé. The confession makes his chest swell with pride.

"Hmm, thought about having me forever?" He smiles, letting his free hand reach up and pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "M'already yours, peach. Always have been, always will be." He bites his lower lip, looking down at how her dress is bunched up around hips, panties slipped to the side against his wrist. "Ride my fingers?" It's a request she wouldn't ever dare deny.

It's with multiple praises, gentle squeezes of her thighs and hips and touches of lips against lips, that she begins moving her own hips onto his fingers, Harry helping her along by curling them so they'd hit the best spots just right every time, making her a babbling mess in a matter of minutes.

At some point in between his croaky whispers and thoughts of calling her his wife, she reaches down with a trembling hand, fingers circling over her clit, making Harry really wish he wasn't so sleep drunken right now.

"M-Mine?" She whimpers, eyes gazing into his.

"Yours. Just as much as you are mine."

Their kiss stops becoming a kiss and just turns into wet tastes, too sloppy and messy to be considered otherwise. By the time she squeezes down onto his fingers and comes with a cry, Harry's wrist feels numb and he's trying his hardest not to wince out loud. But all of that is okay, because by the end of it she's still a good girl, cleaning up her own mess by having his fingers filling her mouth, letting her get a taste of what he wishes he could.

"Naughty." He whispers in disbelief and she gives him a bashful smile, followed by a short giggle. "Can't believe I get to have this for the rest of my life."

And every day the love in his heart grows even more.