REQUEST: could you write one of just lying in bed with Harry, just talking about the future and it’s all fluffy with a bit of smut? Thanks💗💗
REQUEST: could you write an imagine/fluff about pillow talk, like what you and harry would talk about after making love and the sweet nothings he would tell you 😊
Decided to combine these two. I’m not a huge smut writer so there’s not much smut but there is plenty of fluff! Hope you enjoy! x
Lazy moments with Harry were definitely at the top of your list of favorite things.
The two of you were lost in one another, both of your legs intertwined and covered in the pastel pink sheets of your bed. He was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, the tattoos on his body illuminated only by the (many) candles that he’d lit earlier that night while you were preoccupied in your office. You were wearing an oversized shirt that you’d stolen from him months ago, a black button-up with “Styles” embroidered over the breast. Your arm was thrown across his chest as your head nestled into the crook of his neck, and his arm was wrapped around you, his hand settled at the skin of your waist as he traced circles against your skin.
The two of you had just spent a while being intimate with one another, which was evident by both of your horrendous sex hair and the blissful afterglow that the both of you carried on your features. You’d been together for almost half a year now, and in that time you’d spent countless hours fooling around between the sheets—Harry connected with you like no one else ever had, and he knew it. The two of you had a more than active sex life, but it wasn’t only about the sex, it was about the moments.
It was the moment after you scream his name, when he leans over to press a soft kiss to your temple. The way in which he never lets you forget that you are safe, that you are in control, and that he loves you.
It’s the moments where he looks at you—I mean, he REALLY looks at you. Head to toe, as if he’s trying to commit your every dip and curve to memory, even though he probably already has. It’s the way he lets out a small sigh and a goofy smile once he’s gotten the chance to see every inch of your skin, as if your body was the answer to all the questions he’d ever asked.
It’s the moment after it all, after you’d scampered into the bathroom and the both of you had slipped into something to cover your skin from the cold air. Moments like right now, where the two of you were absolutely content with tucking yourselves into one another and pretending like both of you were the only people in the world. That’s certainly what it felt like—you felt his chest rise and fall slowly, and the feeling of his lips at the top of your head made you smile.