Chicken Harry Blurb (Patreon)

Hello! So basically I wrote a fic where Harry lived on the side of a mountain, Y/N delivered him sweets, and they fell in love heavily. 

This is a blurb of them after the story ends :) 

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Harry was happy. 

For the first time, in a long time, Harry was inexplicably happy.

When the summer had been nearing an end, he watched as Y/N began to sufficiently panic with the thought of their time together being limited. Had she known that he’d surprise her with the fact that with her persuasion from a conversation late into one of their nights spent, cuddled close on his couch, (“Don’t you ever just want to move, though? You’d be leaving nothing behind, and until y’find a place to stay, you can live with me -- Franklin too!) he’d be going with her, it might’ve been different. But call him sadistic, he quite enjoyed the extra affection and love she was unloading onto him; the kisses were sweeter, more ardent, the way she grabs onto him like he was just a figment of a fever dream, how she tackles him with a hug at the mere sight of him -- it was all so lovely. And being as touch starved as he had been for quite some time, he’d been milking it. 

However, when he’d caught her crying one night he’d known the rouse was over. He couldn’t keep it a secret any longer -- not when she was looking to him with bleary, saddened eyes speaking on how much she would miss him. How her heart aches at the thought of not spending time with him like this. How, even if they could facetime, or skype, or message, or call, she’d just want to hold him like she could right now. 

“We won’t have to,” he had then answered, cradling her weepy face with his palms, stroking away the tears as carefully he would dew drops on a flower petal, “My company has expanded to many places in the recent years, and one of the buildings is a forty-five minute drive from where you stay. I’ve been looking into renting a flat until I found something permanent.” He then rushes to say, “That is if you’ll have me! If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please let me know but I --” 

Y/N cut him off with her mouth pressed to his firmly and her arms wrapped around him tight. 

So now, here he was, in a new flat that was cozy rather than the expansive cold feeling of the corridors within that mansion. Franklin has her very own room to cluck around in though she’s taken to running amuck in the halls. Harry’s heart and mind felt at ease here, away from the town that held such spiteful feelings towards him, and while he still pays his old housekeeper he keeps contact with them none. 

He’d been worried about moving -- he may have had nobody there, but the familiar faces was nice, and he’d definitely have nobody here. Or so he thought, until Y/N managed to introduce him to a group of people she calls her friends, who don’t ask him for money (he doesn’t even think they know he’s well off), and don’t look to him for the bill (half the time if they’re all out together they either pay seperately, or, if someone has birthday money they splurge on their friends). The people here don’t look at him with dismay and borderline disgust when he walks through the streets, and he doesn’t feel as if he needs to order everything to his door. Y/N re-introduced him to the wonders of grocery shopping, clothes shopping, just any sort of shopping really. And even though they weren’t in a place full of people who unreasonably despised him, his heart is still full and his cheeks pink up when she grabs his hand in public, or kisses at his face, or calls him some sweet pet name that makes him feel all soft and warm. 

Things had worked out so nicely that they had made a habit for themselves; every Friday night, after she’s finished with class and school work, Harry tries to take her out to dinner (tries being the key word, because she’ll either pester him that he’d taken her out earlier, claim that she is the one taking him out for dinner, because “if you dare touch that bill all break your fingers, yeah? Don’t doubt my strength”, or they can’t decide on a place so Harry cooks for her instead), they might go gallivant around a cobble stoned strip of stores, they go back to his place, load up a movie, cuddle on the couch until one of them falls asleep and the other works to make them cozy.

They’d not done anything past a cuddle since they first started seeing each other, really. Kisses were kisses and then they were done and Y/N was snuggly and affectionate and so was he until they both fell asleep. Did this stop his mind from churning out just filthy ideas of things he wanted to do with her? No, it didn’t, but he was all too worried to act on them. Nervous that he’d lost the stamina and charisma he’d once had when regarding sex -- scared that he wouldn’t be any good any more and would nut off too soon because he was so in love with this girl, the thought of slipping inside of her had him ready to cum in seconds if he’s honest. Entertains the idea of being with her in such an intimate sense when he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock and it always brings him to his release in little time. Her soft skin, the smell of her, her kisses, caresses and touch -- all of it is too much for him to even handle the image of let alone actually being within it. 

She’s never pushed it, which is another reason his heart is so full for her, but Harry thinks that tonight will be tonight. 

God, tonight will definitely be the night. 

The reason being, Y/N had kept telling him she has a surprise for him but wouldn’t let him in on the secret (which was the utmost frustrating, because he could usually get her to spill it -- she’s awful at keeping things secret). This surprise meant that he would have to come to her flat at 7PM sharp she had messaged him, and if you could bring me some cookies, that’d be great!! 

So Harry stopped by a bakery, got the frosted cookies that she had expressed her desire for the majority of this week, then made an effort to stop by a florist for a bouquet of chrysanthemums (he liked buying her flowers, simply for the way her face brightens at the sight of them in his hand). Went up the elevator in her building to the fifth floor, stopped outside of her door and knocked but was met only with, “Come in!” Instead of her usual swinging it open and tackling him with a hug. And though he’s a little bummed about it, when he walks in, sets the flowers and cookies down on her kitchen counter as he walks towards her body hunched over something in the living room. 

“Pet,” he begins but she shushes him, waving her hand for him to come nearer which he does, brows pinched towards the center in confusion, rounding the corner of her couch, going towards her front. When he’s finally facing her, he’s met with her smiling sweetly and cradling a sleeping sphynx kitten in her arms. 

“Tada!” She whispered, motioning to the cat and his heart was ready to burst -- she. . .she didn’t did she? “Carol next door -- her cat just had a litter a month ago and she told me that I could have one! And since you never got to adopt a kitten back then, I thought maybe I would do this as a surprise.” Carefully, she parts the kitten from where she’d been cradling it to her bosom, setting it down on the downy padding of a small bed, “Granted she’s kind of the ugliest thing I’ve seen in my life, I figured we could raise her together -- if you don’t want her though, I can take care of her I don’t mind but --” 

Harry decides to cut her off just as she had to him those months ago; smoothing is mouth over her own in a searing kiss in which he tried to pour each impassioned feeling he’d stored up for her. This girl -- this lovely, ridiculous, amazing girl, who had trekked up the side of the mountain to deliver him sweets and bought him gifts and cared for him deeply -- had remembered he’d not been able to get a kitten almost a year ago from a small anecdote he’d told her. Remembered, then went out of her way to get him a kitten, then. . .just in case he wasn’t into it. . .was fully prepared to take on caring for it herself. 

Y/N was wonderful. . .absolutely magical.

And Harry had never been so happy. 

His kiss isn’t merely a peck as normal. No, his kiss had intention behind it. He moved to hold her, licking into her mouth, tasting nice and sweet as she always does, her lips soft and pillowy against his own -- a small little noise escaping her when his hand slides down to her hip and squeezes, and he swallows that noise down warm in his belly. Feels this heat trapeze through him, full of a love and tenderness he’s never felt in his life until this very moment. His own little moan dragging from the depths of his chest when their tongues interlock, prodding at one another gently. 

They only part when they both need to breathe, panting over each other’s mouths as he bumps his nose against hers playfully and the giggle that leaves her makes his heart squeeze even tighter. “Jesus,” she puffs out, “If I’d known getting you a cat would’ve gotten me a kiss like that, I would’ve done it back in June.” 

Harry hums lowly, nuzzling into her neck and pecking a small kiss there, sighing contently, “I love you,” he murmurs, “I love you a lot.” 

“I love you most,” she responded, carding her fingers through his hair once before drawing away, “Now, don’t you wanna meet the ugly lug?” 

“Oi,” Harry squeezes at her side, “Be nice, yeah? Hasn’t she got a name?” 

Y/N shakes her head, “No, not yet,” she tells him, crawling over towards the coffee table so she can grab her glass of water,  “I was waiting for you so that we could decide together! I’m thinking we go the Stephen King route and name her Thing of Evil because she kind of looks like she’d overthrow the government given the chance.” 

He gives a small tap to her bottom, “Be nice!” He repeats, before looking towards the slumbering, skin wrinkled kitten, “Can I be cheesy with the naming?” Y/N nods, encouraging him to continue, “I want to name her Banoffee, yeah?” 

She considers this for a moment, and he wonders if she’d forgotten that this was the very first dessert that she had brought to him on the mountain, smiling wide and telling him she had a pie with his name on it. If she did then that’s okay, because then she wouldn’t realize how terribly sentimental he was being. But then she responds, “You’re right, that is incredibly cheesy,” and before he can feel mawkish about it she continues, “Its perfect! I proper love it, I do.” Then she leans forward, picking the tiny little thing up carefully, cooing when her bulging eyes blink open slowly, “Here, have her a mo’.” She nods towards his hands which he cups, as she places the kitten into his hands. 

Harry brings it up to his face, eyeballing the little creature, wondering if it might warm up to him (he’d never admit it, but when he’d taken Franklin in and the little peckish thing immediately hated him, it hurt his feelings), when suddenly, he feels the daintiest, roughest little lick at the tip of his nose. 

“Ahhh!” Y/N nearly squawks, “She’s so disgusting it’s precious!” 

                                               .                            .                          .

The kitten tuckered herself out by 9PM, where Y/N placed her back onto her kitten bed while Harry pulled up a movie. However, he’s not planning really to watch it, because as soon as she sits down besides him, warm in one of his long sleeves, that he twists and pecks a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then another more directly on her lips. And another, sucking her bottom lip in between his teeth as Y/N giggles at him, but the titter falters when Harry slides his hands onto her hips and beckons her into his lap. 

She squeals as he does so, and Harry smiles against her mouth, pulling her closer to him and her crotch is over his own and it’s then that he realizes that he’s already hard. Harry thinks he has had a borderline love stiffy for the past two hours though, if he’s going to be honest, so when she settles against him a soft moan leaves him that he’s unable to control. He thinks that Y/N might leave him be and continue kissing, but she draws back with a small, wet noise, looking to him with her eyes wide -- looks in between them two, “You’re -- did you want to --” 

He nods quickly, clearing his throat and scooting his body up against the couch more, “If you do. . .I’d like to -- I’d like to be intimate.” Blinking up at her, he tries to settle the nerves that spark throughout his body, holding onto her sides a little tighter in an attempt to ground himself a bit.

Y/N smushes their mouths together once more, dropping the weight of her body closer to him which means hear being seated and rubbing more firmly against where he’s stiff and beginning to ache. One of her hands is comfortable at his neck while the other begins threading through his hair, hips testing out a subtle rock that makes Harry moan again. He’d be more embarrassed if not for the fact that his noises encourages Y/N onward, makes her kiss him a little harder, her thighs astride him squeezing. 

And like all things, it’s easy with Y/N. When his hands begin to roam, he slips them beneath her shirt and feels at the soft, warm skin, at first simply holding onto her sides until they begin to creep up and fiddle with the straps of her bra. He’d like it off -- he’d like for her to take her shirt off and her bra off so he can see her, flip them around so that he can kiss and lick and touch her until a map of her body is imprinted in his mind. Though he doesn’t want to push her and doesn’t take the initiative to pull off her shirt, Y/N’s always managed to read him like a book. Draws away to pull her shirt off, revealing the tattered cotton bra she’d been wearing beneath it, the straps worn and a small glimmer of wire jutting out. 

“Sorry, it’s not -- not like, y’know,” she begins, wiggling a little in his lab and unintentionally making his cock throb, “Fancy or anything.”

Harry swallowed thickly, wondering absently if he looks as hungry for her as he feels, his hands creeping up her back once again to the buckle, shaking his head,“Could wear a trash bag and you’d still look lovely.” Then he plucks at the buckle, his heart hammering, “May I?”

With her nodded approval, Harry unhooks her bra and helps her shrug it off her chest, revealing her breasts to him and his mouth waters almost instantaneously. Slipping his bottom lip into his mouth to nibble on as he uses one hand, slipping up from her hip to the swell of it, cupping it between his hands and running the pad of his thumb over her nipple. He feels as it pebbles beneath him and feels as she shivers a bit, goosebumps dimpling over her skin, “God,” he whispers, mostly to himself, cupping her bum with his unoccupied hand and scooting her nearer to him, leaning in and dragging the brunt of his tongue over it. 

Y/N gasps and it spurs him on, pulling the bud into his mouth, pursing his lips around it and sucking tenderly. He massages the other breast in his big hand, nimble fingers squeezing and kneading at the flesh tentatively, loving how her body reacts to him. The way her breathing picks up and the little noises leaving her, make his cock even harder (which he hadn’t thought possible at this point). The solid weight of it in his trousers is unimaginable -- he can’t remember being this bloody hard in a very long time, which is ridiculous, considering he’s merely touching on her and suckling at her nipple, but he loves her. This is a girl he loves so everything automatically feels a hundred times better than normal, especially when she reaches down, her own nerves making her fingers tremble as she tugs at the bottom of his shirt. 

Harry draws from her, a thin line of spit connecting him to her breast and the sight must be rather pornographic because she whines, face pouting, “Want your shirt off,” she tells him, “Want it off now.” 

He responds by reaching down to drag it off of his body, and Y/N’s eyes go wide as she looks at him bare, her hands skating down across his chest, drinking in the sight of the ink decorating his torso. Her hands even sink down to where he’s softer and instead of seeming put off or indifferent about where his hips are less defined, she seems to love it. Squeezes at it and moans a little whimper before leaning in to kiss him again, meeting their mouths for a peck before she delves back in and it’s a lot. His heart feels like it might burst, even more so when she draws back, “You’re so beautiful, Harry,” she murmurs against his mouth, and Harry just melts as she keeps pushing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, then to his jaw, then to his neck, finding the juncture of his neck and shoulder and latching onto it. Harry’s mouth falls around a groan as she sucks and nips, licks and bites, making his toes curl as she works to make a bruise at his throat her hands moving to the button of his trousers, popping it open and working the zip over his bulge. She pops off the section of skin she’d been insistent on, sighing contently and nodding, “There,” she hums, “You’re properly mine now. Everyone can see it when we go out.” 

After so long of being practically exiled to the side of a mountain, the feeling of being wanted is something so glorious he’s unable to put it into words exactly. Just knows that her wanting people to know that he is hers resonates deep within him, makes something snap in a way that he’s dragging her back down to his mouth. Kisses her breathless as he maneuvers them, taking her by the hips and flipping her over so that he’s atop of her, suckling at her mouth and tucking his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties. Helps her wriggle them down her thighs, over her knees, giggling and parting from her mouth when they get caught around her ankles and she begins bicycling her feet to get them off, “You’re so bloody cute,” he tells her, his palms flattened against the inside of her thighs, pushing her open for him a little wider and chances a look down. 

She’s pretty down there too, which Harry hardly thinks his fair. Slowly does he slide his hand nearer to where she’s drippy, running his thumb over the swollen bud of her clit, his prick throbbing when she pulses and whimpers. “Please,” she murmurs, looking at him with her eyes blown, “Harry, I want you inside please? Need you.” 

And how could he say no to that really?  

So he works his pants and boxers down, kicks them off so that he’s just as bare as her, feeling a little shy when he realizes that his cock is bobbing, precum makes his redhead shiny, dripping from the tip  and he’s feeling needy. Y/N reaches down, her hands curling around the shaft, squeezing around it and his entire body shivers, his arms buckling a little as she pulls around him, taking him a little closer to her hole. “Okay,” he murmurs, fits himself between her thighs comfortably, his prick resting against her slit, “Okay, okay, m’gonna push in, yeah?” 

“Go slow,” she responds, “You’re really big Harry, n’I haven’t been with someone in a long while, and I know you’re gonna stretch me out real nicely.” 

He gives a shuddered breath, nodding, feeling more precum bubble at the tip from her words -- god, she’ll be his undoing, he knows it. Even more so when he tips his cock down, the head running against her swollen clit first before it buds at her opening, and he sinks in slow, steady, feeling every bit of her wetting him in between her smooth, soft walls and all that’s running around in his brain is fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck because it feels so good. She feels so good. 

Harry tucks his face into her neck when he’s bottomed out, sneaking his hand down between them, “Baby,” he murmurs, and it’s the first time he’s ever called her this, he thinks -- she squeezes around him tight because of it, “Not g’na last long at all. You feel too good.” He begins thrusting in, slow at first, the clap of his balls against her bum sound and echoing in the room, “God, m’gonna cum,” he murmurs, speaking against her skin, “M’sorry -- m’sorry you jus’ feel so good and I --” 

“S’okay,” Y/N answers, digging her hands into his hair, giving a sharp tug that makes him groan, “S’okay, you can cum whenever, I want it. Want you t’a cum on my tummy, please.” 

A small, disbelieving laugh leaves him, shaking his head, “Always so polite,” he all but whimpers, “You’re perfect. . .fuck you’re perfect.” He snaps his hips once. . .twice. . .three more times before he has to slip out from her warm, wet walls as his orgasm splinters through his body and he’s cumming thick white stripes up her belly. Y/N uses her hand to work him through the rest, pulling at his cock sweetly until he’s emptied everything he had onto her skin.

And despite his orgasm weakened state, he slinks down her body, fitting his head between her thighs even though she begins saying, “Hey, don’t worry bout --” but he’s got his tongue on her before she can finish. Musters all the knowledge he’d garnered before becoming something short of a hermit, dipping into her with his tongue, suckling at her clit, not worried about being all prim and proper about it. Harry eats her out like he’s starved for it, suckling, slurping, lapping at her petals and moaning against her when her thighs begin quivering and closing in around his head. She cums hard, making his chin sticky with it but he’s in heaven between her thighs -- drinks down all she has to give him, parting with a wet gasp as he lies his cheek against her thigh while he catches his breath. 

They’re both a bit of a mess when he finally crawls up to meet her, once again, hovering over her, smiling shyly and she returns it with equal the amount of  bashfulness laced within it, “I’m sorry I came so fast.” He say grimacing at his own words but Y/N leans up, pecks a kiss at his mouth, before settling back down. 

“Don’t apologize, silly, I liked it,” she tells him, “Asked you to cum on my tummy, didn’t I? And you delivered.” 

He grins again, snuggling his face into her throat once more. 

Harry was just so, fucking, happy.