Y/N is stress studying and Harry won't have it (Patreon)

Hello! So, if you've been around for a minute you'll know that this is very reminiscent of the nurse harry fic! I reread it the other day and it got me feeling things, so I wrote something a little a long the lines of it!

The next blurb may be a continuation of the mermaid blurb OR the first kiss for fake gf Y/N, I'm still deciding! 

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“Lovie,” Harry’s voice cuts through the dull silence, making Y/N jump with the flashcard nestled between two fingers, “How long have you been at this for?” 

Y/N bites down hard on her bottom lip, choosing to stay facing away from him. She’d promised him that she’d take it easy this time around -- with studying, that is. Once he’d witnessed her first round of tests and the amount of preparation she’d put into all of it, including the countless hours of reviewing, the massive headaches she got when she went at it too long, the tears pooling at her waterline when she couldn’t get something down, and the way her stomach growled from merely snacking as she was at it, opposed to spending time making a full meal. He had been horrified, brows furrowed as he shook his head, “Sweetheart,” he’d murmured, bending down to her level, “What’re you doing to yourself, huh?” 

“Getting an A,” Y/N had responded, lip trembling, knowing in the back of her mind that how she did it wasn’t recommended and wasn’t healthy in anyway, but seeing someone reacting so adversely too it makes her feel weird -- weak in a way, “What does it look like?” She’d sniffled, reaching up to run her finger beneath her nose. 

“Looks like you’re pushing yourself too hard Moppet,” he had said, voice careful. . .gentle, as he caresses her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, “Come on, let’s take a break yeah? Have you eaten?” 

The shake she’d given of her head and the way his mouth depressed into a small frown, had been the start of it. Y/N promised not to push herself too hard around test time, and Harry promised to help her study (and swore to gracing her with lovely rewards if she’d stuck to their plan). She’s to study after class, for three hours tops (four if she has a test), and she was to not go over 6PM. That’s when she’d take time to eat dinner, shower, and relax for a little while -- she would go over her flashcards with him once through and then lay down for bed. If she didn’t, she was met with firm swats to her bottom -- if he was feeling particularly feisty then he might tie her up, punish her that way. Maybe twist a hand over his cock and make her watch, or edge her till she was drippy and begging.

And it’d worked! She was still getting the grades that she had desired and she was a lot happier while doing it.  

Sometimes she got nervous though. Sometimes Harry had shit to do, especially now that he’s planning his next album, and he didn’t have time to help stressed out college students deal with their readings, flashcards, and notes. So sometimes, Y/N got away with studying a little while longer than usual, knowing that Harry usually rolled in around 7PM to 8PM and she can hear his car as he comes up the driveway, which gives her enough time to snap her books shut, slip them underneath the couch, jump atop of it and nestle in the throw blanket so that he wouldn’t notice a thing. 

This time she guesses she was too caught up in it though, and now here she was, mouthing curses as she settles the flashcard down. Turning to face him, seeing his disappointed gaze making her heart sink into the bottom of her stomach, “I’m sorr--” she began but Harry merely shakes his head. 

“I’m not upset, Sweetheart, I just want to know how long you’ve been doing this for.” He slides his messenger bag from his shoulders first, unloops his scarf from his neck, then shrugs off his tan pea coat, tossing them both onto the couch.

Y/N suckles on her bottom lip for a moment, avoiding his eyes when she utters, “Six hours. . .maybe seven.” Then adding quickly, “But I took a break! For ten or twenty minutes to eat some of the candied pretzels that your mum sent.” 

Harry nods, holding out his hands for her, twiddling his fingers, “C’mon then, let’s get you some real food then.” Y/N slips her fingers around his, letting her pull her up from where she’s sat, and she stumbles into him a bit from the stiffness in her leg muscles, “How does the butternut squash stuffed ravioli sound?” 

“You’re not mad?” Y/N repeats, making them both pause in the kitchen, “You’re usually mad.” 

“Not mad,” he reassured her, reaching up and carding her hair away from her face, leaning down and pressing a soft, smooth kiss against her mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck then patting comfortingly at her bum, encouraging her to hop up and wrap her legs around his hips, “Not mad at all. You’re lucky Pet, m’feeling rather soft actually.” He hums, lifting her to the counter and setting her there, pecking another quick kiss to her lips before drawing back, heading over to the cabinets, taking out two separate pans, setting them on the stove, “We were writing a song -- started talkin ‘bout love and whatnot. . .how you know, when you know, why it is that you know. . .” He looks up at to her, gives a little wink, “Told ‘em I’ve only ever felt it really once. No matter how many songs I’ve written about it, there’s only been one.” 

Y/N struggles not to swing her feet against the cabinets, heels hitting against the wood, “Who’d you feel it for?” 

He rolls his eyes as he preps the food, tutting his tongue, “I dunno; Moppet, who do I go out of my way to take care of? Who’s getting me good mornin’ messages, has sweet lil notes waiting for ‘em with brekkie on the bedside, and who might it be that I cuddle up with every night, even when they press their cold feet on my legs like a little gremlin from hell?” 

Her heart swells, a smile curving at her mouth, and her face heating up so warm she thinks it might be radiating off of her, “Oi,” she reaches out with her foot, tapping at his bottom with it and furrowing her brow, “What’d I say about being so cutesy, huh? Make me feel too. . .gooey.” 

“I love being cutesy,” he pouts mockingly, mirroring her own and plucking at her bottom lip, “How many times have you been in love?” He asks offhandedly, turning the stove to medium heat. 

“Once,” Y/N tells him, kissing at her teeth, “This really hot grocer once told me I had nice tits, and ever since I’ve been in love.” Harry rolls his eyes, flicks water that he had on his fingers onto her playfully, “I’m kidding,” she says a little softer, “It’s only ever been you,” she wonders if her eyes go as moony as her thoughts do, kicking her feet a little, “I’ve only ever loved you.” 

“Well isn’t that cute,” Harry hums, coming back to her so that he can stand between her thighs, “We’re each others first loves.”

                                              .                               .                             .

Harry wasn’t kidding about being in such a soft mood. After they eat, Harry draws them both a lavender bubble bath, sinks in behind her and cuddles her close to his chest, and they talk a bit about their days. Harry had tried a new place that he wants to take her out to lunch to, and Y/N tells him about a movie that she’d like to go see soon (he teases her that she just wants to watch the hot actor in it, joking about bringing him into bed so he can tell him how, “wet she gets when she watches your movies, and he has to fuck her allll better”). He suds her skin, makes her soft, takes it upon himself to soak her skin in lotion, biting into the flesh of her thigh when he gets there until she squeaks and he chuckles warm. Taunts her in a way that she thinks maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. . .sometimes he deems it necessary to relieve her stress in the way of dicking it out of it, and she hopes that that would be tonight. 

She gets excited, especially when she wiggles into one of his shirts and he stops her before she can pull sleep shorts on. Biting down on her lip, she pivots on her heel with a new eagerness to get into bed, but then she sees him sat at the edge, legs positioned in the manner they are when she gets spanked, and her face immediately forms into a pout when he pats his thigh. “Thought you said you weren’t mad!” 

“I’m not, Baby,” he murmurs as she walks over to him, crawling over his lap, her face pressed into the comforter, “But I do have to punish your poor little bottom. You know better.” His palm is big and warm, rubbing over her skin soothingly for a moment before it disappears and returns with a stinging slap that makes her gasp loudly. He shushes her, dragging his thumb between her shoulder blades, “Shh, you’re okay. Be my good girl, yeah? Don’t you want to be my good girl?” 

Y/N nods, the next two coming quickly, and now she merely tenses, biting her bottom lip harshly and her pussy clenching a little as he hums, “There we go,” he hums, swatting a little harder the next time, right in the center, “Why am I doing this, Pet? Use your words.” 

The next spank hits at the back of her thighs, and she flinches, voice trembling a little when she responds, “I broke our promise,” she responds regretfully, hating how it sounds aloud, and now she merely wants to snuggle into him, hold onto him tight, be his good girl like she usually was, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Lovie,” he tells her, leaving one more reverberating swat on her bum that makes the skin jiggle so much she can feel it, but he’s pulling her up from where she’s bent and Y/N is stuffing her face into his throat, nuzzling at it, “I love you.” 

“I love you more.” She drags back, rubbing the tips of their noses together, her lips pulling back to show a toothy grin, “Lots more. I’ve got you beat.” 

“God, you’re so sweet on me aren’t you?” She nods against him, “Precious thing, you’re gonna make me feel gooey.”