*Taken inspo from harry's wet dream cover cause... duh.*
Harry wouldn't consider himself a light sleeper. He never really had issues waking up in the middle of the night to noises. Even when y/n mentioned how loud his neighbors were yelling one night, Harry had no clue what she meant. So, when he's awoken around 2:47 a.m. he's surprised. Something really loud must've jolted him out of his deep sleep.
Still, in his groggy state, Harry can't seem to remember what woke him. That is, until, he hears a soft moaning coming from the sleeping girl on his chest. He glances down at the messy locks of long hair that cover his otherwise naked chest. Y/n is clinging to his torso with her arm, the other tucked under her face. Her leg is wrapped around Harry's as well.
Harry wraps a protective arm around y/n's body as he assumes she must be having a nightmare. She doesn't have them often, but when she does, they're horrid. They typically end with Harry forcing her to do some breathing techniques he researched online after her first nightmare in his bed.
But, what Harry doesn't see is y/n's face. No, not a face of anguish or fear. Y/n's face is covered in pleasure. And those moans that woke Harry were not moans of pain either. He doesn't quite catch on just yet though. Because when y/n's next whimper comes out and her body squirms even more, he furrows his brows further. He so desperately wants to wake her but, yet another product of his love for this girl, his research told him it's best not to wake someone out of a nightmare. So he just holds on a bit tighter, hoping whatever it is that is torturing her in her head eases up sooner rather than later.
Little does he know, he is the one that is torturing her mind right now. While Harry might fully believe that y/n is in the midst of a heartwrenching nightmare, he could not be further from the truth. And when the first coherent words come out of his girlfriend's mouth, he realizes his initial thoughts were possibly wrong.
In the midst of her writhing and whimpering, y/n slips out a simple "please sir", leaving Harry frozen. He shakes off the way his cock twitched at the sound of her pleas.
Maybe she's just pleading for help, he thinks. There's no way she's getting this worked up over a wet dream, right? While Harry had haphazardly let it slip that he has a bit of a "sir" kink, they had never actually tried it out together.
He tries to brush off the thoughts running through his head caused by just the sound of those two words. But, it gets a little more interesting when he hears her whining more. Whining the same way she does when he edges her over and over again. He should just try to go back to sleep, right? She's just having an intense dream and they both were really tired from the day before.
Shutting his eyes, Harry can't help but notice how the way y/n's hips are rolling against him. With her leg swung over his like normal, it leaves her crotch pressed up against the top of his thigh; a position similar to one they both thoroughly enjoy from time to time.
"Please. Please. Please sir." y/n shakily begs Harry in her dream but also, aloud. Harry, now growing increasingly frustrated, as proved by the hardening in his boxers, opens his eyes again with a slight groan. Craning his head down a bit to look at the top of y/n's head, he brushes some hair out of the way so that he can try and make out the look on her face. All he can manage to view in the dark room though is the slight pained look in the way her brows are drawn together.
If she doesn't wake up or knock it off soon, Harry might have to stalk off to their bathroom to have a wank. The way her hips continue to grind up against him, coupled with the soft moans and pleas falling from her lips, she is not helping Harry fall back asleep by any means.
He struggles with the idea of waking her up or just hoping and praying she wakes up on her own. As if she can read his mind, y/n gasps a tad too loud for herself and startles awake. Harry can tell by the way her breathing changes from her rapid racing heartbeat to now, a more normal sense of his y/n.
