Harry X Reader: Smut
In which Harry loves your boobs and hates when you sleep.
Omg please write something about harry and his missus boobs I’m dying for it
Harry has been in a mood since the moment he woke up, hands roaming your body under the sheets, cupping the underneath of your breasts, lips sponging over the back of your neck. He woke you up with his feely touches, much to your annoyance.
“Harry, leave me alone,” you mumbled, rolling away from him. The two of you were out late last night and had a long day ahead of you. You needed all the shut eye you could get.
“Jus’ wan’ some cuddles, love,” he complained with a tired whine, fingers snaking over your hip in an effort to pull you back to him.
“No, you don’t. Let me sleep.” You had to shove his hands away twice more before he finally relented, climbing out of bed to get ready for the day. You were thankful for the peace, but no matter how hard you tried, there was no getting back to sleep.
Now, here you are, yawning through the doorway after a busy schedule of meetings and catch-ups, toeing off your shoes in the entryway. Your feet lead you to the couch where you collapse onto your back, eyes resting closed. A wave of relieved bliss washes over you until it’s broken once more.