Soft, sleepy sex (Patreon)

Hello! This is filthy with some dirty talk but also soft and sleepy and lovey so I hope you enjoy :) 

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Harry likes Saturday mornings. 

There was just something about them; not necessarily because it was the weekend, though it’s not like that hurt any. Waking up to the sun a buttery glow through the window, warm rays splitting past blinds that irradiate flakes of dust otherwise unseen. Blinking blurry eyes until they adjust to the light, that stiffness in his shoulder from lying on it too long travelling up to his neck until he fixes it with a resounding pop. Stretching out his body from toes to fingers, feeling himself waver between sleep and consciousness, a soft shiver running up his spine before he decides that a few more minutes of sleep would be okay. 

And when he looks over to his side, he sees what he decides is an angel beside him. 

Y/N always looks so sweet while she sleeps somehow. Even with her mouth hung open, drool dribbled at the corner, or her face scrunching with a sneeze that wracks through her body loudly before her muscles relax and she rests once again. He thinks his favorite thing to open his eyes in see apart from the sun is her looking mildly grumpy in her sleeping face -- not at all peaceful, sometimes just looking like someone proper pissed her off and she was keeping quiet about it. And his favorite thing next to that even, was how all he had to do was pull her closer to him, or merely run his fingers gently across her face, for that grumpy pout to ebb away in replacement of a contented twitch of her lips upward. 

Then when she wakes up; flickers her eyes open in a squint and smiles at him -- or tries to at the very least, “Hi cutie,” she rasps out, “I’d smooch ya if m’breath wasn’t gross.” 

It makes him soft -- she makes him soft, and Harry loves feeling soft, especially in the mornings. It’s the reason why a little buzz of excitement zips through him when he’s falling asleep Friday nights, knowing what awaits him the next morning. A snuggly, warm, happy Y/N, who dedicates Saturdays to trying to bake something (not always succeeding), backrubs, bubble baths, and movies. Saturdays are her favorite day of the week, he’d reckon -- the exuberance she exhibits is unlike that of her other days. 

So, in a sense, Harry likes Saturday mornings because Y/N likes Saturday mornings and that’s just that really. 

On this particular Saturday, though, instead of being greeted to the gentle whisper of her breath leaving her parted lips, he hears something awfully akin to a wanton moan. He’d half thought he’d imagined it, in that pleasant in between being asleep and being awake, where his eyelids feel heavy even closed. Would’ve turned over and fell right back to sleep if not for the next little whimper that leaves her mouth; one more distinct than the first, a hushed cry of his name. 

That makes him peek one eye open, squinting against the morning light cascading through the room. Y/N was faced away from him but by her posture alone he could tell she was still very much asleep. If she were doing anything filthy, her body would be contorted and tensed in a way that he’s seen plenty of times. Her arm would be moving in a steady motion while she teased herself with two fingers, quick little circles around her clit while her thighs tensed and threatened to crush her hand between them. She also would’ve probably just woken him up too -- second to waking up to her still slumbering and looking pissed off, Harry’s favorite thing to wake up to was a needy Y/N. One who couldn’t wait for him to wake up; who’d slithered closer to him and slipped her arms around him like a constrictor, pushing nonthreatening kisses to the soft of his throat before finding that particular spot that makes him shiver and biting down. The same, who would be contented with merely sucking on him for hours with her own fingers between her legs if he’d ever give her the chance. 

What had been a lackluster morning wood, began to pulse to life, blood rushing towards his groin as she shuffled some before relaxing with another little groan leaving her. Harry wonders what in her dream could have her so worked up enough that it extended to real life. From the sounds of it, it was him, but what was he doing? Was he between her legs, tongue stroking over her dripping slit? Or was he working her over with his fingers while they sat and watched a movie beneath the covers, dragging her attention from the actor she’d been crushing on? Maybe he was even stroking the swollen head of his cock against her clit before he sank into her, holding her thighs open while they stowed themselves away in the bathroom at a gathering and he just couldn’t help but ruck her dress up over her hips when she’d been an accidental tease all night, could that be it? 

Whatever the thought that may be drifting through her head, without knowing what it is, Harry was getting a contact high. He mustered the strength of his sleep weighted muscles and scooted over to her, spreading his fingers out against her hip and ushering her backward so her bum was pressed against him. Y/N moves easily (some nights, if they’re feeling particularly filthy, Harry calls her his little dolly, from how he could just flop her around and she goes with it, without question or worry), her back to his chest and Harry bites down on his bottom lip as he strokes the hair from her neck. He lays his lips over her drumming pulse point, pushing a small kiss to the skin that covers it. Then another at the juncture of her throat and chin, and another where her neck begins to slope into her shoulder. 

He continues these kisses, stroking from her hip down to her thigh and back up again until she begins to rouse from sleep. Pleasure filled moans are soon replaced with little groans from waking, stretching out her back only to find Harry there. She gives a little jump, like she might not have realized anyone was next to her in the first place, before turning to face him some, “Hi cuddle monster,” her voice is thick with sleep, a gentle rasp that sends another jolt to his cock. 

“G’morning,” his words are muffled by her throat, face planted against her, “Someone was having a naughty dream,” he murmured, fingers pausing their route of up and down her thigh, slipping towards the flimsy fabric of her underwear, “Woke me up.” 

“Your cock pushed against my bum woke me up,” she teases him lightly, wiggling against him and a hiss tips off his tongue, “Was dreaming bout last week, actually -- thought about it before bed.” 

Last week had been particularly filthy for the both of them; something had struck within Harry where he couldn’t keep his prick down for longer than a few hours at a time, and Y/N seemed to match his insatiable desires tenfold. So much so that when they’d been out with their friends and she’d been acting off all night; giggly and giddy, but shifting uncomfortably and looking flushed. Her pupils had been dilated to all hell -- he’d been close to asking if she’d been sneaking his drinks along with her own. 

All his questions had soon been quelled once she took him to the bathroom with her, locked the door, bent over the sink and pulled her panties to the side to show she had pushed a plug into her bum and had been walking around with it all day. Harry fucked her right then, with the lube she’d slipped into her purse slicking up his cock and her hole all stretched out and waiting for him -- he’d slipped inside the tight, slick heat that squeezed his prick like a hug, wrapped his arm around her body to rub two fingers over her clit, and they both fell apart within the first ten thrusts alone. 

(He’d pushed the plug back in to keep his cum from dripping out.) 

The thought of it has his cock throb in his boxers. She’s so absolutely filthy sometimes but she’s such a gentle, caring sweet soul as well -- it truly rocks him when she does something like that. It’s what makes him slide his fingers beneath the elastic, watching it strain against his thick knuckles as he slid his fingers against her slit and feeling just how wet the dream had made her. He moans because of it, tutting his tongue and shaking his head as much as he can with his position, “Fuck sake, Pet,” he moves her closer to him, heart kicking up in his chest when she gently peels her legs apart for him, allowing him much more movement and he feels her abdomen clench beneath his ministrations, “You’re a wet little thing aren’t you? Would barely have to try to make you cum.” 

“M’close right now,” she breathes out and he could feel it, how she was already unraveling at her edges, twitching and pulsing and blooming for him, “Please lemme --” 

“Shh,” he hushes her softly, withdrawing his fingers and ignoring her little whien as he holds them in front of her mouth, coaxing them against her tongue as he pushes his boxers down just enough to get his cock out. He’s too lazy to pull her panties off, so he just tugs them to the side, pulls her thigh up with a careful, “Keep your leg up, fo’ me,” before he gets a hold on his cock. His movements are lazy and slow; he’s sure for not the throbbing in between his legs and the needy girl besides him, he would fall right back to bed. Slicking the tip against her clit, he gets himself wet with her before pressing the head down inside of her and reveling in the little gasp that tears from her throat around his fingers. He takes hold of her thigh again, fingers denting the flesh as he slowly rocks his hips into her. Another moan leaves her, one that’s a bit strangled as her head tilts back against him and he suppresses a chuckle, “S’feel nice?” His tone is that of teasing only because she likes it so much, feeling the head of his cock stroke against every ridge of her walls, “Good for you?” 

“So good,” she sighs, her breath coming quicker, and he knows she won’t last much longer at all. She’s so sensitive in the morning. . .every caress is like an aphrodisiac, only contributing to the heat between her thighs and the sizzling through her veins. The times he’s woken her up already working her over with his tongue are usually the times she’s cum the quickest for him, waking up and wiggling against him, twisting and grappling for the sheets or his hair to hold onto, desperate to fuck against his tongue but he keeps her held down with his hands splayed across her tummy. 

It’s not like he has any room to talk though, he’s extra sensitive in the mornings too, and this is only further proven by the mewls and whimpers leaving him as he fucks up into her. There might be little marks on her thigh from how tightly he’s gripping onto her, moaning into her ear, savoring the soaked feeling of her pulsing around him as she reaches back with one hand to hold onto his hip. 

“Think y’can cum like this?” He breathes, slowing to a particularly forceful thrust stroking up just against her spot, watching as her breasts jiggle in the loose tank top she wore, nipples protruding out and he only then realizes just how much he wants to suck on them, “Just by my cock?” She nods quickly but he won’t take that, “Tell me.” 

“G’na cum just by your cock, Sir, please don’t stop,” 

He doesn’t even try to hide how deeply the words resonate within him, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to gnaw on hard before gritting out, “Yeah? m’Sir now?” He nuzzles into her throat, “Quite like the sound of that. Gotta take care of my baby, don’ I? My sweet lil’ cum slut with a nice lil’ pussy,” her fingers dig into his skin tight, the filth that slides off his tongue making her squeeze around him even tighter, and Harry feels the head of his cock throb against her walls as that distinct sparkle of light begins to dot around his body. “You want your greedy lil’ hole filled, don’t you? Wanna be so full you gush with me, don’ you?” He quickened his pace, lips quirking in a smile at not only how good he feels but how good he knows he’s making her feel, “C’mon, tell me.” 

“Wanna feel you drip out of me,” she keens, her thigh fighting against his hold to close as her orgasm starts, “Fuck, m’cumming, m’cumming, want you t’a cum too please, wanna feel it inside.” 

So soft, and sleepy, and sensitive, and warm, he only rocks into her twice more before he feels himself pulsating, the bow snapping throughout his body as he pours into her, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth as each spurt leaves him. It’s a lot, and she keeps making these tiny sounds that make him twitch inside her. He barely even wants to slip out of her once he’s finished, but he knows how sore she gets when he stays inside her for a while, and he wasn’t particularly feeling cruel today. He slips out, reaching down with that hand that was holding her thigh and orders (though it was a languid order at best), “Push out fo’ me.” He collects what she does on his fingers, letting her have some but when he reaches down again he saves it for himself -- he loves how they taste together.

His muscles are once again weary and his everything’s relaxing again. Harry’s well aware of how much she’ll regret falling back to sleep when she’s got dried cum staining her thighs but she’s too adorable snuggling up against him now to say anything. Y/N urges his arms around her as a simple request and Harry happily obliges, hugging her close as she shuffles to get comfortable again, “Love you,” she murmurs gently.

“Love you most.” He replies, with a kiss to her head. 

As he’s falling back to sleep, Harry decides that he’ll fuck her again once they wake up. 

He really likes Saturday mornings.