me: spends a month writing this 6.6k word "blurb" after writing a 22k word fic without a break because i feel guilty at all the messages in my inbox begging for a blurb about harry and fleur doing the dirty for the first time.
tumblr: here's a hundred likes with four reblogs
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Harry and Fleur finally Do The Deed. Happy Reading.
***
Harry doesn't need to turn around when he hears footsteps, fully aware of who it could be at 2 in the morning. He sighs, "You know, I've always known that you're stubborn as fuck, but even this is getting on my nerves."
Fleur scoffs, tightening her robe as she makes her way into the kitchen, clumsily because of how big Harry's slippers on her feet are. "You can't keep me locked in that room forever."
"How am I keeping you locked in if you're moving around freely around the house," he says, finally turning around, "against the doctor's orders."
"I'm stronger than the average person."
"I don't care. It's only been six days. You need to stay in bed for ten."
She looks down at her robe. "But I just showered. I need to let my body breathe." She slowly begins to untie the ribbon she's made in the front. "Why don't you help me with that?"
She's been doing this all week, teasing him until he feels like grabbing his hair and yanking it out of his roots. The most they've been doing is kissing, and even a hint at something more, the mere thought of his hand traveling a little south makes him tingle in ways that feels a lot like electrocution. He narrows his eyes and reaches out, grabbing onto her hands to make her pause. Instead of sending back a reply, he pulls her closer and says, "No."
Her shoulders fall. "Why not?"
"Because the doctor said so. And, more importantly, because I said so."
She rolls her eyes. "I'm fine, Styles. Look, even my head's not bleeding anymore and my wrist doesn't hurt either." She wiggles her fingers. "See?"
"No. I said no."
Frustration returns to her face as she breaks her hands away from his grip and growls, "Fine. I'm going back to my room."
He exhales softly. "Good. I'll be there in a second with your water."
"No. You're not allowed to sleep in my bed anymore. My bed, my rules."
"It's not your bed, is it? Last I checked, it's my bed, with my sheets, on my mattress, in my room under my roof."
"It's temporarily mine."
"But permanently mine."
"Shut up. I'm going to bed and you can't come with me."
"I can do whatever I want. I'll be there in two minutes."
She growls and turns away, stomping her way back to her room, mentally cursing him out. He waits until she's gone to reach into his cabinet and remove a bottle of painkillers. His arm has been aching ever since he'd started doing the dishes, and even bickering with Fleur has made his head erupt in pain. He takes two because he knows she won't stop talking until he shoves her into the pillow and tells her to go to sleep, because that's what they've been doing for the past five days.
He follows her into the room with her water and gently places it on the table on her side. She's sitting on the bed, watching him. "I'm sleeping on that side."
"No, that's my side."
"Can anything go my way?"
"No," he repeats, sighing as he sinks into bed, raising his hips to take his pajama pants off, leaving in him a shirt and briefs. He's made sure to do this under the covers so she doesn't see, aware of how uncomfortable she can get. "I'm the one taking care of you, so we're still playing by my rules."
