#and then I want to be tucked into his bed and squished so tightly that I die from suffocation

[nevvaraven]

.

[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about pregnant reader and bucky and I saw you wrote something already😂😅

I saw few posts where everyone finds out reader is pregnant before bucky and it honestly makes me angry 😒 it just irritates me. It's always they take one look at the reader and they all know. I just want at least once that bucky finds out first. Like if yn and Bucky were laying down and she asked bucky for some treats that she hid under the bed that she was craving (ofc bucky was on top of her😉) so he gets them and he starts thinking and goes to ask her like what she was craving, her boobs got bigger and what else happens... so in a few days while yn was sleeping he hears a heartbeat and so he gets a little but scared but no running! He starts talking to it and one day while they were cooking together, he asked yn what she thinks about getting married, moving in together babies etc. Maybe she has irregular period so she doesnt even notices (I usually skip few months even a year so ik I wouldn't notice if I got preggo 😂) so he tells her that she is pregnant and he can hear the heart beat so it goes to the tears and blah happy stuff. And when it gets to the dinner with avengers few weeks later she refuses cocktails and vine and when someone asks she is like well I AM pregnant and takes off her jacket just to see a small bump in a tight dress.

Prettyyyyy please with a cherry on top with whipped cream and a side dish to make this happen 🥺🙏🙏 I can even beg on my knees for this if you want

Babes, you do not have to beg when you come up with asks that speak to my weaknesses. Fuck, I love this so much, my whole heart YES.

18+ Minors dni  "Buck"

"Bucckyyyyyy"

"Buchanan!"

Bucky snorted, pulling away from where he was kissing your neck, your pouty face looking back at him.

"Can you pleeease get the chocolate covered pretzels I hid under the bed" You smiled sheepishly. It wasn't a secret you had a little stash of snacks hidden in various parts of the room. Bucky discovered that when he went to grab his Henley from the closet and found a bag of m&ms tucked away between his clothes.

"Really baby? Right now?" He playfully rolled his eyes, ignoring how hard he was, reaching over and pulling the bag out, watching your face light up, giving him grabby hands.

"Can't help it, I've been craving sweet and salty stuff all day"

"I'll give you something sweet and salty" Bucky wiggled his eyebrows while you smacked his arm, grabbing a pretzel and moaning at the taste.

"Perv"

"Never thought I'd have competition with a pretzel"

"Chocolate covered pretzel" You corrected, your eyes nearly rolling back, practically whining a the way the chocolate melted. He looked at you quizzically, he'd seen you have cravings before but never this strongly. He wasn't at all jealous a stupid sweet and salty snack craving had cut into his spicy cuddle time with you.

"What else have you been craving baby?"

You thought for a moment, naming a foot long list of colorful combinations and a disturbing amount of chocolate. Some of the foods you didn't even usually like...

You hummed contently after satisfying your craving, giving your attention back to Bucky. He gave you a devilish smirk, pinning you down on the bed, his boner against your panties.

"I'll give you something to actually moan about baby"

3 orgasms later 

You snored softly cuddled against Bucky's body, his arm wrapping tightly around you. He pulled you closer to him, his hand snaking up to cup your boob, his favorite way to fall asleep. They felt...fuller. Bucky gave your breast a soft squish, careful not to wake you. He had your boobs in his hands, his mouth, face face at least twice a day, they were definitely a little fuller. In fact, they’d felt a little fuller for quite some time. Hm. 

Over the next two weeks your cravings hadn’t ceased. He’d quietly restocked all your little stashes without telling you, noticing tiny changes in your regular routines. You slept a little more. You were a little more clingy (which he loved, carrying his little koala everywhere). You didn’t seem to notice anything, nor did anyone else but Bucky did. And he had an idea of what it could be. 

You were fast asleep, curled up in bed in nothing but one of Bucky’s t-shirts, while he gazed down at your tummy. It had to be it, right? He carefully shuffled down, gently lifting your shirt, glancing up at you to make sure you were still asleep. 

When he concentrated, Bucky was able to hyper focus on his sense of hearing, courtesy of the serum and all his assassin training. These were one of the few moments he was thankful for it. He laid his head on your belly, hearing the teensiest faint heart beat that he’d never heard before. He wasn’t a doctor but it all added up. Your cravings. The ever so slight softness of your body. How your boobs were fuller. Bucky’s heart and mind raced at the same time. Would he be a good father? Would his baby love him? He’d dreamt of this moment before but now it was actually happening. 

"I know your in there" He whispers, narrowing his eyes at your belly. “Mommy might not even know yet, but I do” Bucky’s eyes flick up to you when you stir slightly, but remain asleep. “We’ll talk later, mama needs her rest” 

Bucky carefully pressed a soft kiss to your belly before coming up and holding you again, his heart fluttering because even though he was a little scared, this was everything he ever wanted.

It became a regular occurrence. Bucky always made sure you were fast asleep before laying his head on your tummy, quietly talking to the little peanut in your belly. 

“Do you care to explain why you make mommy crave ice cream at 3AM” Bucky whispered, rubbing his tired eyes after getting you some Ben and Jerry’s in the middle of the night. You’d fallen asleep immediately after, a content smile on your face. 

A number of conversations had taken place that month. 

“Mama doesn’t need chocolate covered oreos”

“Do you have daddy’s super hearing? I hope so, other wise I’m talking to myself” 

“I understand the ice cream, but the potato chip sandwich was a little weird today, don’t you think?”

“You’re going to be chunky, mommy going to keep you more than well fed” 

The entire month, Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off you, your boobs were a little more plump and they were only going to get bigger. His cock got hard thinking about how gorgeous you’d look, pretty full breasts, your little one drinking from you....

Him drinking from you.      

“She’ll keep me well fed too” 

*****

“Y/n?” Bucky’s arms wrapped around your tummy, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some pasta, “What do you think about getting married?” 

“Hmm, I’d say if someone asked me” You giggled, pecking a kiss to Bucky’s nose, not noticing him nervously shuffling behind you, completely abandoning the garlic bread he was making. 

“Would you want to move in with me? Permanently?” 

“I already basically live with you Bucky, but it’d make it easier if I moved all my stuff over. Might as well” 

“W-what about having babies?” 

“I’ve always wanted to have two” You smiled to yourself, thinking about your dream family with little Bucky’s running around. 

“With me?” He whispered, a part of him worried you wouldn’t want that with him, given his past. You put the spoon down, turning to look at him while he bit his lip nervously. Your hand cradled his face, tracing over his scruffy beard. 

“Of course with you Bucky, why would you doubt that?”

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded, looking at Bucky curiously while his heart raced, he’d never asked you these questions before but you figured he should have already known the answer would have been yes. 

“Why are you asking me all this baby?” 

“Because...” Bucky hesitated, while you looked up at him, urging for him to continue. “You’re pregnant baby” 

“H-how do you know” You whispered, your heart racing, melting into Bucky’s arms while he held you close to him. You didn’t have your period for a while but you figured it was just coming later than usual. 

“I can hear the babies heart beat. When its really quiet, usually when you’re asleep” 

Your breath hitched in your throat while Bucky kneeled in front of you, kissing your tummy, tears streaming down both your faces. 

“I’m pregnant?” 

Bucky nodded, standing again so he could cradling your body close to his, kissing you all over. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, your heart full. 

“You’re pregnant angel, my sweet baby”

A few weeks later 

“C’mon, are you sure you don’t want any?” Nat smirked, taking a sip from her wine. You’d just arrived after your date with Bucky, the both of you joining the team for dinner afterwards. You shook your head, while Bucky smiled, kissing your temple.  

“I can make you a cocktail” Tony suggested, but you shook your head again. 

“Why not” Wanda pouted but you giggled, bouncing on your feet, clinging onto Bucky’s hand. The team eyed you both curiously while you took of your jacket, a series of screams and cries erupting seeing your little baby bump under your dress. 

“Cause I’m pregnant” 

Bucky grinned, his hands cradling your tiny bump while everyone enveloped you both in a giant hug. 

“I call God father!” 

[pinksturniolo]

Switch - Chris and Matt Sturniolo (Part Two)

Chris x Matt and Fem Reader

Summary: Cherry Bomb - The largest underground BDSM club in Los Angeles, California. Its member list is extremely exclusive, only granting access to celebrities, influencers and the filthy rich. No one really cares who you are or what you do, they come for one thing and one thing only. Whatever happens at the Cherry stays at the Cherry….

Content warnings: smut, oral, fingering, protected sex, bondage, use of sex toys, spanking, teasing, threesome

this story has heavy themes and descriptions of bdsm, so if you’re not comfortable with that pls don’t read <3

word count: 2,909

“What do you think Matt? Think she deserves to cum?”

“Give her what she wants.” He replies, and you almost moan at his words.

Chris tucks himself back into his boxers and removes his shirt before standing up and flipping you around so he can lay you face down on the bed, towards the middle.

He positions you in the way he wants, his hand pulling your hips up, so your back arches and your ass sits in the air. He spreads your legs slightly and then you feel his belt wrap around the middle of your thighs, squishing them tightly together, making it hard for you to move.  

He runs his hand teasingly down the back of your thighs, and then yanks down your soaked panties, the cool air hitting you. You shiver and grip onto the blanket under you, turning your head, your face smushed against the sheets, to set your gaze back on Matt.

His hair is disheveled, from running his hand through it several times, a bead of sweat shining on his forehead, as he's still holding himself through his boxers, his dick throbbing from the way your body looks arched on the bed. He keeps his eyes on you, lust consuming him.

The sight of Matt touching himself and the feeling of Chris’s fingers now parting your folds from behind has arousal coursing through your veins.

Chris blows cool air on your heat, making you whimper. He runs one finger along you again, playing in your slickness. He kisses your ass cheek, running his tongue along your skin. Biting into your flesh softly, his finger still teasing you. He does this for a few minutes, torturing you.

You can’t take it anymore and buck your hips against his hand, a whine escaping your throat. “Pleaseee…”

He hums, moving his head down to place soft kisses on your inner thighs. “What’s that, princess? I can’t hear you.” He replies.

You sigh, frustration building from his teasing. “Please, Chris. Please, I’ve been good. I need you.” You say, wiggling your hips again.

He slaps your inner thigh to get you to stay still, gripping your hip in his other hand.

“You hear that, Matt? Such a needy little slut.” Chris says, not bothering to look at Matt, because his eyes are transfixed on your dripping pussy, his hand spreading your cheeks further as he runs two fingers down to your clit, applying pressure on the bundle of nerves.

You moan loudly, Chris wrapping an arm around your thigh so his fingers can rest on your clit, making circles, as sparks of pleasure crackle through you. You then feel his warm tongue against your hole, licking at your wetness until he pushes it in and out a few times.

You’re trying to stay still but are failing as you move your hips against his hand and face, the restriction of the belt putting you in a tight position.

“Oh my god…” You moan out, and you can hear Matt’s panting from across the room and see his hand moving a little faster over his bulge, the veins in his neck straining, still looking into your eyes.

The fact that he’s getting off to your pleasure, pushes you closer to your orgasm as you feel yourself clench around Chris’s tongue.

“Chris…” You whimper, his breath coming out rapidly against you as he responds. “Yes, princess?”

Before you can reply he pushes two fingers deep inside you, curling against your g spot and your eyes roll back into your head. You can’t stop moaning as he thrusts them into you roughly, smacking your ass again.

He leans down over you, rasping into your ear. “You were saying something?”

You’re barely able to talk as you feel your release rapidly approaching, the coil inside you threatening to unravel. His fingers continue to slip in and out of you, as he’s pressed against you, his dick still rock hard in his boxers, puffing hot breaths on your neck.

“Please… I’m gonna cum.” You manage to say, your voice strained. You can tell Matt is losing his self control from the way his chest is heaving and the way he’s rubbing himself over his boxers.

But then his movements stop when you say that, and he looks you straight in the eyes, his face cold.

“You’re not cumming until I say so.” He says and your heart drops as Chris suddenly removes his fingers from inside you, getting off the bed completely.

You almost cry from the feeling of emptiness, the sweet release that’s been ripped from your grasp. You hear Chris chuckle as he removes his belt from your thighs and your legs collapse, as you stay face down on the sheets.

You look at Matt with a pathetic gaze in your eyes, not saying a word. His face is still expressionless, and he’s already zipped his jeans back up, his hands crossed as they rest on his stomach.

For a moment there, it seemed he was giving into the pleasure, watching you lose yourself on Chris’s hands and tongue and you were starting to get extremely irritated with all the teasing. You needed him badly, you wanted him close to you. To touch you. To please you.

But he was being fucking mean, and you hated it. Yet, it turned you on more than you cared to admit.

“Turn around.” You hear Chris say and you do as you’re told. You see him retrieve a rope from the cabinet on the other side of the room and there’s something else in his hand, but you can’t really tell what it is. Until he walks back over to the bed and your legs tremble with a mix of fear and anticipation.

It’s a pretty pink vibrator wand and this one is remote controlled. You look back at Matt now and honestly you should’ve seen this coming, but you’re not surprised. He holds the small remote in his hand, and he can’t help the smirk from appearing on his lips when he notices you see it.

Chris sets the vibrator on the bed next to you and then forcefully moves you up a little higher, your head resting against the pillows and brings both of your wrists above your head to tie them with the rope to the metal headboard.

He then removes your bra and panties, his eyes full of hunger, and places wet kisses all over your breasts, sucking on your nipples that only gets you panting again.

He sits up between your legs, spreading them open wide and takes himself out of his boxers, rolling a condom on and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breathing is shallow as he rubs his tip up and down a few times, bumping against your clit.

His hands are on your hips and he watches as he pushes himself slowly inside you, a slight burn as you adjust to his size. His eyes flick up to you as you inhale sharply, your fingers tugging on the rope.

“You can take it baby.” He mutters, pushing himself to the hilt, and places a hand on your lower abdomen to feel how deep he is. “Feel me in your tummy, princess?”

The way Chris talks almost sends you over the edge again and you whine loudly, struggling to move your hips in the death grip he has on you.

“I know, sweetheart. Hurts, doesn’t it?” He responds to your needy whimpers, starting to thrust his hips against you in an agonizingly slow pace. You simply nod your head, your eyes rolling back at how good he feels inside you.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna make it better. Just be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” He digs his fingertips harder into you, now thrusting faster, your tits bouncing.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Chris smirks at this, adoring the look of pure bliss on your face as you throw your head back, your wrists straining against the rope he tied them with. To be quite honest, he’s wanted to make you scream his name and have you cum whatever way you wanted since you walked into the red room, and he laid his eyes on you.

But Matt was the one who was really in charge here, and his plans for tonight were different. Nevertheless, he really enjoys how submissive you are and the way you’ll obey any word that comes out of his or Matt’s mouth. He’s almost jealous of the fact that Matt has had you so many times before him, and he’s starting to become addicted to the way your body feels on his hands, his cock… his mouth. He could spend hours just making you his.

And now, Chris is practically fucking the words out of you as there’s nothing left in your vocabulary, except moans and whimpers of his name, begging and pleading with him to help you get the release you so desperately need.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.” Matt says, demanding your attention back on him, hearing the little cries you make. You turn your head to look at him, your vision blurred from the pleasure.

“Matt… pleaseee. I-I wanna cum.” You tell him.

“Mm, just a little longer, princess. I think you need to learn your lesson.” He says, referring to the smart comment you made earlier.

Chris takes this as initiative to grab the vibrator and place it on your clit, earning a loud gasp from you as Matt suddenly switches it on the lowest setting.

You cry out loudly, the feeling overwhelming as Chris continues his pace, groaning when you clench around him.

Before you can even say anything, Matt turns the setting up higher, and tears stream down your face from the intensity. It feels insanely good but almost hurts too much. “Fuck, Matt! Please- I can’t.. can’t take it.” You pant, your body shaking and Chris doesn’t stop, his own resolve starting to crumble as his thrusts become sloppy.

“You wanna cum baby?” Matt says.

“Yes! Please, please, plea-“

“Go ahead. You’ve been so good, you can cum princess.”

He’s barely getting the last word of his sentence out before you orgasm, a warm gush releasing as you squirt all over Chris, who’s own orgasm has hit as well, his head thrown back, the muscles in his neck and arms straining. He helps your ride through it and your whole body feels as if it’s on fire.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good…” He pants, staying in you for a few seconds before pulling out. You’re absolutely exhausted and your wrists are burning, your legs still shaking as Chris places a kiss on your stomach sweetly and then climbs off the bed to discard the condom and vibrator.

You’re still catching your breath when Matt finally gets up from the chair and walks over to you, untying the rope from above you. He rubs soothingly on your wrists and brings them down, smoothing your hair back from your head and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You did so good, princess. I know you have one more in you and I want it to be when I'm inside you. Can you take it?” He asks and you would be a fool to say no.

“Yes, Matt.”

“That’s my girl.” He praises, his voice deep and sultry, his eyes admiring your face for a few seconds before he gives his next command.

“Unzip my jeans.”

You swallow and move your trembling hands to his crotch, that’s now eye level with you. You unzip him, his black boxers underneath and see the outline of his thick, hard cock just aching to be touched, a wet spot from the precum that leaks from his tip. Your mouth waters as you look up at him and pull the jeans down his hips and off his legs.

His jaw is clenched, his eyes full of nothing but lust for you as he looks back down at you.

You’re a mess, your hair wild and fluffy, mascara-streaked tears drying on your cheeks and red, swollen lips from biting down so hard. But he thinks you’re nothing less than beautiful and his ego swells with pride because he knows that he’ll be the one to pull your last orgasm from you, that he was the one you needed permission from, not Chris.

“And my shirt?” Matt continues, an eyebrow raised, and you get up on your knees to pull his white t shirt over his head, his muscles rippling and flexing from the cool air as you toss it to the floor.

Chris watches from the end of the bed, still mesmerized with the way Matt controls you.

“Good girl…” Matt mumbles, giving you a slow, but warm kiss on your lips, causing butterflies in your stomach again and then he shoves you down before you can really get into his sweet kiss, giving him a disappointed look as you fall to the bed.

“Don’t pout... I’m gonna make you feel good, baby.” He says and turns you around so you’re on all fours again, his strong hands holding your ass up for him and pushing your shoulders down so you’re in the same position you were for Chris.

But this time Matt is behind you and Chris is sitting on the bed in front of you, your face coming to rest on his thigh as he moves close to you. He strokes his hand over your jaw, gathering your hair in his other hand when you feel Matt stroke his tip through your wet folds.

“You’ve enjoyed this haven’t you? Letting us use your body however we want…” Matt pants, his words making your heart race and your pussy throb as he continues to tease you, pushing his tip against your hole but not entering you.

You whine desperately, your tongue sticking out to slide over the side of Chris’ cock, and smush your wet lips against it. He groans, his jaw slacking open as he watches you, your little moans vibrating through him. He wasn’t gonna last long with the way you were slobbering on him.

“Answer me.” Matt demands now, smacking his palm on your ass cheek harshly. You jolt forwards, gripping onto Chris’s thighs.

He smacks you again when you don’t answer right away, making you cry out. “Yes!”

He rubs both his hands on your ass soothingly, his dick still rubbing against your wet core. “You know who you belong to right?” He says, dominance in his voice.

“Yes, Matt.”

“Who does this pussy belong to you?” and he slides into you halfway, only to pull out and slap you on the ass again.

You moan loudly, his teasing unbearable. “You, Matt. I belong to you.” You want nothing more than to feel him inside you again, as you wrap your lips around Chris.

Chris grips your hair tighter in his hand, easing his cock further into your mouth. “Shit, that’s not what you were saying when you were moaning my name earlier, pretty baby.”

Jesus Christ. How the fuck did you get so lucky to have these two men battle for dominance over you?

Matt’s response is to shove his cock into you, his hips against yours, burying himself as deep as he can go. You whimper, Chris now hitting the back of your throat.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, doesn’t take it easy on you, as Matt slams into you over and over, skin clapping against skin, and it feels so damn good you think you might just pass out.

You manage to keep your head bobbing on Chris, his hands still holding your hair as you suck him off the best you can, Matt fucking you from behind.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaking wet…”

“You’re such a good girl…”

“Look how good you take me…”

“Let me see those pretty eyes…”

The praises coming left and right from both Matt and Chris have you in heaven, leaking down Matt’s cock and your saliva drooling over Chris’s. Your moans are nonstop, feeling yourself near another orgasm. And you're not the only one.

Chris is throbbing, his hips bucking as his fingers tangle in your hair, moaning your name as he spurts hot thick streams down your throat. You swallow every drop, and pull away, swirling your tongue around his tip as he trembles with pleasure, his head thrown back.

Your voice is strained as you moan Matt’s name, his cock stroking your walls. It’s his turn to pull your hair now, and he does harshly, tears stinging your eyes. He watches your face as you unravel beneath him, clenching around him tightly, your arousal coating him.

He groans loudly, pulling out before he can release inside you, painting white streams over your ass and lower back.

The three of you are a hot, panting mess, sweat mixed with your wetness all over your bodies.

After a few minutes, Chris gets up to grab a wet towel for you, but Matt stops him with a simple, “I’ll get it for her.”

So instead, Chris takes this opportunity to brush your hair back from your face gently and wipe the tears from your cheeks. You smile tiredly at him, holding his hand on your face.

Matt watches with jealousy as he wets the towel and then comes back to the bed, pulling you from Chris and into his arms so he can clean you up.

Aftercare is arguably the most important part of each session, and they do nothing but make you feel at ease while you rest, whispering how proud they are of you.

It’s incredibly sweet but you can’t help and notice the constant battle they have for your attention, and you know now that this experience is only your first of many with them at Cherry Bomb.

a/n: sooo i’m definitely gonna write a lil blurb for this one day about subby matt and chris, can we all agree how hot that would be 👀🤭

thank you so much for 300+ followers!!! i love each and every single one of you and i appreciate everyone who interacts i think it’s so cool and pls don’t hesitate to send messages if you want!!

taglist <3:

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturniololoco @wh0resstuff @sturnlova @sturnioloco @mattsturniololoverr @raysmayhem-72 @mattscoquette @6ix9inewiturmom @mattsleftnipple03 (some users are on permanent tag list and some are just for this story so lmk if anyone wants to change or be taken off 🩷)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiiii I was wondering if you could write smut for Tom keifer like where the reader and him are still teenagers and hes the readers first boyfriend and he takes her virginity 🙏

A/n: I smell writers block leaving but I don't want to jinx it

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

The school year was finally over and you couldn't be happier. Your classes had been stressing you out so much, your boyfriend, Tom, had been your only reprieve given the high standards your parents held you to.

Tom was always there to comfort you, getting you snacks and gifts. He never made you do anything you weren't comfortable with but he would more than occasionally remind you of his favourite form of stress relief.

You never agreed to full on sex but you weren't entirely innocent in anything, you knew he was right you just had never been with anyone in any way. You knew that if you were going to do it, it would be with him. You were in high school, you didn't know if you would be forever, but you knew he'd always have a special place with you.

Even so, something was keeping you from being totally, completely with him.

The first full week into summer you agreed to spend at his place, his arms were your favourite place to be and if you got the opportunity to curl up with him after all those fucking tests and shit? It was needed and no one could stop you.

Tom woke up before you, his arms held tightly around you and your legs tangled together. He smiled at your sleeping figure, pretty face all relaxed, cheek squished against his arm which had fallen asleep and hurt but he refused to move it.

He leaned closer and kissed your forehead, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear. He let out a soft sigh as he stared at you. "You're so pretty... sleepy and squishy and... perfect..." He whispered to no one.

After a while you woke up and he was finally able to move his arm, quietly thanking god as the blood rushed back down the limb. "Oh... m'sorry..." You mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

He shook his head. "No, don't apologize, if I wanted to move it I would've." He said, still holding you close. "How'd you sleep?"

You let out a soft sigh and shrugged. "Any night in your arms is better than most." You said, shifting closer to him, which was when you felt something against your leg. You looked up at him, a curious look in your eye though you could figure out pretty easily what it was.

"Sorry," he started simply, "I just... I don't have an excuse." He said with a chuckle. "Ignore it if you can." You chewed your cheek a moment, still curious.

"Where'd it come from?" You asked, tugging on the blanket covering the both of you.

"What do you mean? It came from... blood or something."

You rolled your eyes at him. "No, dipshit, I mean, like, a dream or something?" You asked, pulling the blanket down until you could see the bulge in his shorts.

"They just happen sometimes." He inhaled deeply. "But, if I had to take a guess it would be the pretty girl I have in my bed that was rubbing up on me all night." He teased, poking you in your side. You hated when he did that and always slapped his hand away, he was just happy to touch you in any way.

"Don't blame this on me, it's your body." You grumbled, rolling over to face away from him.

He let out a heavy sigh as his eyes trailed over your body, hand moving down to your hip. "No, sweetheart, I think it's definitely your body."

He moved closer to you, slowly starting to kiss down your neck and rolling his hips against yours, grinding himself against your ass and letting out a low groan.

You couldn't help but to push back into him. It wasn't the first time you let him do this and it definitely wouldn't be the last, you loved hearing his soft sounds in your ear, how they got higher when he got closer to finishing.

You reached down and pushed your shorts down. It took Tom a second to process what were you doing but when he did he followed suit, getting out of his shorts and boxers and pushing between your thighs, another of your favourite things to do with him.

He loved you everywhere, your plump thighs and stomach pudge, soft hands and the way you smelled. There was not a thing he wouldn't worship about you, and he never let you forget it.

But today was not the same. Something in you had changed, at least something in the moment had changed.

You moved your panties down and kicked them off the bed, that made Tom pause. "What are you doing?" He asked, sitting up on his elbow and looking at your face.

You looked up at him. "I'm ready to relax." You said simply, smiling softly up at him.

You could tell there was a fire in his eyes, he needed you so bad, more now than ever after being given permission, but he held himself back, knowing he needed to be gentle with you.

He kissed your cheek and lined himself up with your already glistening hole, teasing you with his tip a moment before slowly pushing in. He froze as soon as he pushed in, mind a muddled mess at the sensation.

Sure, you'd felt his fingers before time and time again, nothing compared to this, to him.

His arms wrapped around you, hands running up and down your sides, squeezing your thighs and chest. "Fuck, you're so... you feel so, so good..." He purred in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back. You whined softly, feeling him leaving you. He didn't pull fully out before pushing back in. "Shh, don't worry... just close your eyes and let me make you feel good."

You nodded and did he as asked, closing your eyes and focusing on his touch. His hands on your hips and chest, your stomach down to your clit and rubbing it as he set a steady rhythm with his thrusts.

His soft noises fell onto your ears, low grunts and groans, murmurs of how good your felt wrapped around him. "Fuck... you take me so well, sweet thing... so wet for me... just for me..." He mused, a grin on his face.

You felt a familiar feeling build in your gut, a knot of heat and pleasure tightening and getting ready to snap. "Tommy-! Tommy, m-m'so close!" You moaned out, gripping the sheets tight.

Of course he always cared about your pleasure, he'd made you cum before countless times. However, this felt different. It was new, of course it would feel different, a good different.

"Mmh, good girl." He purred, lips trailing over your sensitive skin. "Cum for me, sweetheart... cum on my cock, it'll feel good, I promise." He gave your hip a squeeze with one hand, the other still rubbing your clit.

You felt the knot snap, unravelling inside you as a wave of heat washed over you, body trembling.

Tom let you ride out your high on his cock, feeling your clenching around him. He bit his lip so hard it bled, desperately holding himself back from fucking you good and hard like he'd dreamt of for months. Your comfort, your pleasure, you came first. Always.

He let out a shaky breath as he pulled out of you.

You quickly looked back at him, rolling over to face him. "Wait, where are you going?" You asked, a pout tugging at your lips. Your mind was still foggy and your body was hot, but you knew for sure you didn't want him gone.

He smiled down at you and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

You huffed. "Then why..?" You asked softly.

His brows furrowed a moment as he thought about what you meant. "I-I don't have a condom." He admitted after a moment.

You chewed your cheek a moment before shaking your head, not accepting that answer. "We'll figure something out, give me more."

He stared at you, a deep desire growing in his eyes at your words as he moved over you, lips connecting with yours as he maneuvered his way between your legs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@k-eiferss @angelbl0g

[hazbintrashbin]

“I’ve got a little SQUISH on you!” (Aroace/AAspec ft. RadioRose (Alastor x Rosie) Pt. II

When did they realize they had a 🦑 squish 🦑??:

Part I 🌹 | Part II 📻

Alastor 📻:

📻 You could pull every tooth from its bed, tearing the nerves from its nestled dens within the depths of his gums...

📻 But you could never, ever get Alastor --

📻 The ever-elusive yet dangerously strong Radio Demon himself --

📻 To admit his woes.

📻 They will always and forever remain in his back pocket. Better yet, it'll remain in the little tin cookie container, tucked among all of the bobbins of thread and needles and scraps of fabric, hidden beneath the cluster of shoes and clothes and miscellaneous items in Alastor's large, dark closet.

📻 It was an early morning in Hell. About four in the morning.

📻 Alastor ambles across the swamp, wearing nothing but a loose cotton shirt and simple pants, a long rifle strapped across his back. On his shoulder, he hauls a limp hog.

📻 "Oh, a pitiful creature you are!" Alastor says as he approaches the end of the swampland. There, his dining table awaits this fresh lump of meat. Tossing it onto the table, Alastor doesn't bother to change apart from poofing himself a clean cotton shirt.

📻 "But how delicious you'll be!" Alastor sits, grabbing a nearby fancy box. He pulls out a large knife and a rod. Idly, he rakes the knife across the rod.

📻 And he rakes, and rakes, and rakes. The metal shavings begin to glitter across his lap.

📻 Slowly, his eyes trail toward a thick cord, following it up a ladder heading toward the door in his ceiling.

📻 The trapdoor is cracked open --not because he left it that way, but because of the damage it received (along with the rest of his studio) from the epic battle between them and the Angels.

📻 Alastor's raking hand slows to a stop.

📻 Up in that room amidst the debris is his microphone. The stand's been fixed, but the mic's damaged. Alastor's been making it work as he attempts to fix it, but...

📻 He sighs, his smile growing small.

📻 If he could've beaten that damn Adam, he'd be an even stronger overlord than he already is. Perhaps even stronger than many hellborns. He'd probably even be able to fight himself out of that shitty deal...

📻 Ring, ring!

📻 Alastor's ears shoot up in surprise.

📻 Ah, yes! He'd gotten a personal landline from his dear friend Rosie not very long ago!

📻 Without realizing it, Alastor stands from his seat to swiftly move toward the phone, grinning wider than before.

📻 It's an elegant candlestick-styled landline encrusted with golden swirls and molded from a beautiful, shimmering red.

📻 A gift that could be from no one other than Rosie...

📻 "Hello, Alastor speaking!"

📻 "Alastor," Rosie laughs heartily, and Alastor's cheeks press into his eyes as he basks in her moment of amusement. "You don't need to answer the phone that way, you know!"

📻 "Oh, but I simply want you to know that you're speaking with me, my dear!" Alastor says cheekily.

📻 "I see... so, does that mean the Radio Demon himself has an imposter on the loose?" Rosie asks, matching Alastor's sass. He can almost feel her signature sharp grin growing ever wider.

📻 "Of course not!" Alastor chirps. "Because I'd have already tracked him down and killed him!" Instinctively, Alastor's free hand pulls itself into a tightly balled fist, a green glow suddenly shooting from his being as he feels the souls swirling within buzz with life, his horns stretching across his torso.

📻 Truthfully, the very thought of someone imitating him and potentially tricking Rosie pisses him off. Perhaps he should go out and make an example of someone... you know, just to keep the record straight.

📻 Rosie laughs even harder. "Oh, Alastor! I wouldn't have believed it for a second!"

📻 "Hm. Is that so?" Alastor's horns shrink, and just that quick, he's calm. He sits at his dressing table, leaning into his hand as he presses the earpiece further into his ear.

📻 "No, what do you take me for, a fool?" Before Alastor can say anything, Rosie follows up with, "I could never mistake anyone else for you, hun."

📻 There is a short pause, and Alastor hums. Rosie continues...

📻 "I have a peculiar feeling, though. It's the reason I called you today."

📻 "Oh? And what would that reason be?" Alastor asks. He lifts his head from his palm, preferring to twirl the earpiece's cord at the moment.

📻 "I haven't seen or heard from you since that crazy battle two days ago. I know you're still healing Alastor --"

📻 "Not at all!" The words shoot through Alastor's teeth, and Rosie falls silent. The quietness between them grows as Alastor tenses for a moment. His smile feeling quite forced now, he clears his throat.

📻 "I'm doing just fine, Rosie. Is that all you wanted to say?" Alastor's ears remain pinned down, and he drags his pointed nails across the table's surface, making light scratches in it. There's a low, rumbly sound on the other line. Rosie's humming.

📻 Finally, she says, "I know you too well, Alastor."

📻 "Really?" Snarkily, Alastor says, "I think there's more to know, my friend!"

📻 Rosie asks if that's a joke or if he seriously believes that. Alastor replies but doesn't necessarily answer the question.

📻 Honestly, he doesn't know if he's joking or not either.

📻 "You're irritated." Rosie simply says.

📻 "Not so --I feel quite well this morning!" Alastor insists.

📻 "You're not usually up at four, nearly five in the morning. Your day starts at six or seven, maybe seven-thirty going on eight if you're sleeping in late." Rosie says firmly. The tightness in her voice makes Alastor's grin slowly pull back into some kind of snarl, his nose crinkling. Heat rises within him, his face going from a purplish gray to a deep magenta.

📻 "Rosie," Alastor chuckles, but nothing's funny. "What do you know of my schedule? No one knows my schedule."

📻 "I know you usually start your morning with a hunt and a cold meal." She says.

📻 "Many people do!" Alastor replies.

📻 "Usually, you're already dressed, but given the time, I bet you're in your drabbier clothes."

📻 "Hah! I'm fully dressed!" Alastor says, awkwardly glancing elsewhere at the blatant lie.

📻 "With a smile? Sure. In your day clothes? Absolutely not!" Rosie huffs.

📻 "Well, what does it matter to you, Rosie?!" Alastor snaps, his fist slamming onto the table. Rosie laughs a little. It's adorable, but it only pisses him off more.

📻 "And losing your temper? Now, that's really not like you, Alastor." Rosie says. Alastor grunts. Being taunted into acting out of his character... is unlike him.

📻 And pretty embarrassing, actually.

📻 Especially on the phone with Rosie...

📻 Trying his best to regain control, Alastor slowly lets out a laugh of his own. It's a little weird-sounding --not entirely forced and not entirely genuine...

📻 "Come on, Alastor," Rosie finally says, "Tell me what's wrong."

📻 Alastor remains silent, however. His lips purse into an uncomfortably tight smile.

📻 "You know how I know something's wrong with you?" Rosie asks.

📻 Alastor remains silent. After a while, Rosie says...

📻 "You're speaking without your radio voice."

📻 Somehow, Alastor's brows furrow even more. His spirit shrivels into a tiny ball, and if he had a tail --truthfully -- it'd probably be tucking itself beneath his behind by now.

📻 "Alastor the Radio Demon has a very distinctive voice, you know!" Rosie says, "But every now and again, when it's an odd hour of the day, and there hasn't been any broadcasts, or those baby overlords aren't complaining about a certain radio demon on their little picture boxes or tiny telephones..."

📻 "When I don't even hear a Cab Calloway song or a ragtime piece playing on your channel... I know there's something wrong with my dearest friend." Rosie finishes her explanation, now going silent. Alastor remains silent as well.

📻 A few moments pass.

📻 "... Alastor? Are you there, Alastor?" Rosie asks.

📻 "... Of course I am, my dear."

📻 With his refusal to say anything else, Rosie sighs deeply.

📻 "I suppose you don't want to tell me." She says.

📻 "Well --" Alastor is interrupted by Rosie.

📻 "Ah, ah, ah! Don't worry about it. I won't push you any further." She says this so sweetly, a smile evident in her tone.

📻 After a moment, Alastor can't help but think to himself, "She's the only person in all of Hell who could get under my skin like this and yet survive."

📻 Does she realize how special she is?

📻 Then, Alastor shifts in his seat, leaning into his chair and tucking his free hand into the sleeve that is his arm and torso.

📻 Indeed, she's a special demon after all. How could he ever stay mad at one of his closest friends?

📻 Alastor's spirit slowly lifts and expands inside him, and before he knows it, his mouth moves on its own.

📻 "You have always been so earnest, Rosie," he says, "It has always been the spirit I've admired in you."

📻 "Oh!" Rosie seems caught off guard, and Alastor finds himself laughing. For real, this time.

📻 His ears lift as do his shoulders. Everything's brighter just that quickly.

📻 "You've always been so charming, my friend!" He continues. "A one-of-a-kind demon belle."

📻 This time Rosie gets to laugh.

📻 With half-lidded eyes, Alastor shifts to lean into his hand again. He takes this moment to simply enjoy the sound of Rosie's laughter this early hellish morning.

📻 "Oh, Alastor," she coos between her giggles, "You're the most!"

📻 "And you're the mostest."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

WOO!! Finally done!!

I did NOT intend for Alastor's part to be so long! Like, BRO, when I finished writing it (FINALLY!) I just sat back and checked the time… it went from 11PMish when I started to damn 2, goin’ on 3 o’clock!! I was like “WTH??!!” 😭😂😂

Plus!! I feel like the beginning is kind of slow, but, BUT I think y'all gonna survive based on the rest of the story!

That said, I kinda feel like this part of the “Squish” collection leans a lot more platonic as compared to Rosie’s part, but I thought about it and was like: “You know, that’s not necessarily a bad thing!” After all, while I personally HC Rosie as someone in the grey area of aroace, I always imagine Alastor as someone who is romance-indifferent (based on how he behaved in the comics when some of the ladies of cannibal town were swooning over him, otherwise, I don’t know if there’s been any other info from the creators about his feelings toward romance (not smex!!), but I don’t get the impression that he’s disgusted or completely put off by it —just disinterested, if nothing else). As such, I felt like someone like Alastor, while not seemingly as bothered by the idea of intimacy/romance as much as he is seggs, would probably not think romance or even behave in such a way when dealing with someone he’s especially close to. At the same time, with the kind of chemistry he has with Rosie, I can easily see an intimate bond between them. Is it sexual intimacy? Absolutely not. Romantic intimacy? … Ehhhhh, so-so but not quite, especially on Alastor’s end. Is it simply a deep, emotional kind of intimacy? Slightly blurring the lines between platonic and romantic?? Well, yeah, kind of like that!

All and all, I’m still deciding what kind of quasi-platonic relationship I want them to have. I feel like it would be a kind of intimate relationship where certain forms of intimacy are welcome (cuddles, hand-holding/arm-linking, hours specifically reserved for each other (dates, lol), innocent kisses here and there, etc), but in honor of Alastor’s sex-averse nature, I imagine sex, for example, isn’t really something they would engage in —if ever at all, honestly.

And I think I feel fine with that. There’s plenty of Alastor content that completely ignores his sex-averse nature for the sake of a spicy fanfic, and to each their own I suppose, but I do think there could be at least a fair amount of content (shipping or otherwise) that still at least tries to respect Alastor’s orientation.

Although, at the same time I feel like for those who challenge Alastor being paired with anyone, many of them are starting to imply (or flat-out say) that bc of his aroaceness he couldn’t possibly be in a relationship of any kind?? That he’d be utterly repulsed by it??

On one hand, if that’s your headcanon, do what you want! Plus, there are def aroace folk who don’t want to engage in relationships of any kind, and that’s valid, too. On the other hand, I’m a little concerned that a lot of people are starting to (once again) associate all ace, aro-, and aroaces with this inherent disgust or disinterest in intimacy! I feel like this is snowballing into the “aces/aros/aroaces are emotionless/can’t love/robots” kind of thing!! And this time, it’s being perpetuated by other aroace/aspec people!! Which is crazy!!

All in all though, I just feel like —bottom line —if you’re gonna ship Alastor, at least try to be respectful of his orientation. However, let us all keep in mind that being aroace/aspec does NOT mean you “can’t love”/care about some intimately. That may not include sex/romance, and if it does, it may not look the way it’s depicted in allo relationships, but that doesn’t make it any less valid. Idk. It’s just something I’ve been noticing lately… IDK!!! It’s complicated, lol.

Anywho, I’ll finally get off my soapbox again!! lol. I believe I said I’d follow up on this miniature RadioRose collection with a few HCs?? Like a traditional HC list?? Soo…. Yeah!

Hope you guys enjoyed the post, long as it is —and all of you stay tuned!!! 📻

Part I 🌹 | Part II 📻

[em-prentiss]

amaranthine

-----

(adj.) undying, immortal; eternally beautiful (like his love for her)

Emily takes one of the bags from him and opens it, finding a grocery store’s worth of chocolates, hot chocolate mixes, and packets of mint tea. She feels tears well in her eyes when she spots multiple packets of Maltesers, her favorite chocolate that she always hoarded from Reid and Morgan.

“Aaron..” She hates that her voice is choked up with tears, because why the fuck is she crying anyways? Emily clears her throat and swallows tightly. “You didn’t have to.”

Or, Aaron takes care of Emily while she’s on her period.

-----

Emily wakes up with a throbbing low in her abdomen, her thighs on fire and her head pounding. She groans and wraps her arms tightly around herself, dreading the thought of getting out of bed.

At least Penelope hadn’t called with a case, she tells herself, but the thought brings her little comfort. She feels the bed dip as Sergio’s slight weight climbs on it, his tail in the air as he approaches.

“Hi Serg,” Emily mumbles, scratching behind his ears when he comes up to rub his face against hers, his purrs vibrating through her skin. “Did you come to cuddle with me, buddy?” She asks as he throws himself on her chest, his head tucked into her neck. Emily laughs lightly when she feels his whiskers tickle her skin. 

“Yeah, I need that today.” She whispers, closing her eyes and tucking her knees into her chest in an attempt to stifle the pain. 

The alarm rings minutes later. Emily winces and shuts it off. She strokes Sergio’s smooth fur, feeling his purrs in her chest, and curls on her side, squishing him between her and the pillow. He meows in protest and Emily huffs out a laugh.

“I really don’t wanna go to work today,” she tells the cat, the cramps in her stomach making her groan. “Screw all the serial killers,” she grumbles and hugs his warm body to hers, feeling his paws press into her arm. 

The alarm rings again and she slams the snooze button. “Besides, I went on a date with the boss. I think he can cut me some slack, don’t you?” She kisses Sergio’s furry forehead. Her eyes drift closed, the bright light of her room intensifying her headache. 

She’s breathing evenly into Sergio’s fur when the alarm blares again. Emily sighs and drags herself up, forcing herself to ignore the pain in her body. She looks down at her bed and groans.

“It’s gonna be a long fucking day.” She mutters as she shoos Sergio off the bed and strips off her bloodied sheets.

****

She hurries into the bullpen, desperate to sit down and ease the ache in her lower body. Morgan looks up at her when she dumps her things on her desk and sits down with a sigh. 

“Twenty minutes late, princess,” he grins at her. “Late night?”

“Not today, Derek.” Emily stuffs her head in her hands, the pounding in her head intensifying. Morgan frowns in concern, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Emily mumbles, her voice muffled. She lifts her head and gives him a weary smile. “Just tired from last night’s case.”

He nods and leaves her alone as she turns on her computer and sighs at the stack of paperwork ahead of her. Emily looks up out of habit and smiles slightly at the sight of Aaron in his office, his head bent as he works on something. 

They’d had their first date just before this previous case. He got her flowers, specifically ones that wouldn’t hurt Sergio, and when he told her that with a flustered smile Emily felt herself fall impossibly deeper. She had kissed him to stop his rambling, linked their fingers together as he walked her to his car and opened the door for her. He got her ice cream after dinner, intimately aware of her sweet tooth, and Emily was left wondering if it was too soon for her to think about marriage.

She’d wanted so badly to push him into her apartment, have him take off her dress and press his lips to her skin. But she forced herself to say goodbye at the door, his chaste kiss sweet against her lips. She wanted to take it slow, to do it right. He wasn’t going to be a quick fuck for her and she wanted him to know that. 

Because she’s in love with him, has been for years. She’s pretty sure he’s in love with her too.

Emily is broken from her reverie when she hears JJ approaching, a steaming mug in her hands. Emily gives her friend a questioning look when she sets down the mug on her desk, the light color of the liquid telling her it’s some kind of herbal tea instead of coffee.

“You’ve got that first day period look about you,” JJ whispers. Emily smiles and picks up the tea, taking a sip and feeling the scalding liquid burn all the way down.

“That bad, huh?” She closes her eyes when JJ brushes her hair away from her forehead, her nails scratching lightly against Emily’s scalp. 

“You’re a little pale,” she murmurs. “Did you eat?”

Emily says nothing and picks up the tea again, avoiding her friend’s gaze. “Emily,” JJ sighs.

“I’ll eat in a bit,” she says, “the pain really blocks my appetite.” She scrunches her nose. 

JJ hums, all too familiar with the feeling. “I’d tell you to take some meds, but you need to eat for that.” She strokes her hair soothingly, making Emily lean into her touch.

“I will,” Emily smiles up at her. “When my stomach settles. This is helping by the way, thanks.” She tilts her head to the mug she’s now holding against her stomach, the heat of it seeping through her shirt.

“You’re welcome,” JJ squeezes her shoulder and heads to her own desk. 

Emily tips her head back and adjusts her grip on the mug in her hands, wishing she had something for her thighs too. And her head. And her sore breasts. 

She rubs her eyes and tries to start on her report. The words blur on the page in front of her and she blinks, trying to bring them back into focus. She sips her tea, hoping it’ll kick start her brain into writing something, but her head pounds incessantly, jumbling up the words in her head.

Her next sip of the tea brings a sudden nausea with it, the liquid sloshing around in her empty stomach with nothing else. Emily sets it down with a grimace. Fucking great.

She hears Morgan and Reid bickering behind her, hears JJ clacking away at her computer and Anderson talking louder than usual, his voice piercing her head. Emily blows out a breath and grabs her pen, forcing herself to look at her paperwork. She squints at the paper, the bright fluorescent lights of the bullpen like needles in her eyes.

Emily gives up and slumps on her desk with a groan, welcoming the darkness and the cool wood against her forehead. She crosses her arms tightly over her aching stomach, feeling the frustrating press of tears against her closed eyelids.

Aaron leaves his office in search of coffee and catches sight of Emily with her head on her desk, her hair shielding her face. He hurries down to her. “Emily?” He gently touches her shoulder.

Emily tilts her head up to look at him, too tired to lift it from the desk. “Aaron, hey.” She gives him a worn out smile. 

Her hair falls into her face and he tucks it behind her ear to see her properly. Aaron notes her crossed arms held tightly against her stomach, her nails digging into her biceps.

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, eyeing her pale skin and the bags under her eyes. “You look pale. Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against her forehead, but her skin is cool.

“I’m not,” she licks her lips. “I’ll be fine, my head just hurts a bit.”

‘A bit’ is a gross oversimplification, and from the look on his face, he knows it too. “Just your head?” He raises his brows, his eyes pointedly drifting down to her stomach.

“I’ll be fine, Aaron.” She lifts herself up against the chair. The light shines directly into her eyes and she winces, pressing her palm against her lids.

“Clearly,” he mutters, looking at her desk and the still empty paperwork and reports she has yet to fill out. “Go home, Emily. You can finish this tomorrow.”

“No,” she shakes her head adamantly despite the roiling in her stomach. “I’m fine, I just-” she shuts her eyes and blows out a shaky breath when she feels a sudden cramp in her abdomen, “I just need a minute.”

Aaron eyes her pale skin and the way she tightly grips her seat, her knuckles white. “Emily,” he crouches in front of her and waits until she opens her eyes. “Please. Go home or I’ll drive you myself.”

The sharp pain in her stomach almost makes her gasp. Emily bites her lip and looks down at her watch. “It’s only 11.” She protests weakly. Aaron shakes his head at her stubbornness, her pain clear in the way her face twists.

“You’re in pain, sweetheart,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying it. Her eyes widen slightly at the nickname.

“Please. Go home, take care of yourself. You can be here first thing tomorrow, I promise, but you’re not well now.” He’s using the same soft, soothing tone he uses whenever Jack is sick and refusing his medication, and it seems to have the same effect on Emily.

She wilts against the seat and nods. “Okay,” she relents, the relief obvious in her voice. 

Aaron smiles slightly and stands up. She doesn’t even have to pack anything, her purse still closed on her desk. Emily pockets her phone and stands, her hand reaching for Aaron’s elbow when she stumbles slightly. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” he steadies her with a hand on her back. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Emily doesn’t protest and allows him to walk her to the elevator. A part of her is surprised that he’s showing this side of him at work, uncaring of the team’s piercing gazes that she can feel following them all the way out of the bullpen.

The elevator door opens and she walks in. Aaron walks in with her too, ignoring her surprised look. “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving? I can take you,” he offers.

Emily smiles. She shakes her head, despite her aching body and the long drive ahead of her. “I’ll be fine. Thank you though.”

Aaron nods. “Drive safe.” He smiles at her gently. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” she lightly runs her fingers through his hair and pushes it away from his forehead. He involuntarily leans into her touch and Emily bites back a smile.

“Maybe I can come by later?” He whispers. Emily feels her body grow warm, a comforting glow that he always brings out in her. She smiles, momentarily distracted from the pain in her body.

“I won’t be much fun,” she gestures to herself with a shrug. The elevator stops and the doors slide open into the parking lot. 

“That’s just nonsense,” Aaron tilts her face down to kiss her forehead, his palms warm on her cheeks. “Be careful, Emily.”

“I will.” She stamps a quick kiss on his lips, her cheeks warm, and heads to her car. Aaron waits until she gets in before heading again to the sixth floor.

He walks back into the bullpen, past his team gathered at Reid’s desk, including Garcia. They smirk at him and he glares back.

“Not a word.” 

****

It’s late when she wakes up, the setting sun painting her apartment warm golden hues. She lays down on the couch, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep back into her head, and turns on the TV. Sergio meows for her and jumps up on her lap to curl on her stomach.

“Another nap?” Emily smiles as he blinks sleepily at her. “The one we just had wasn’t long enough?” She sinks her fingers into his fur and melts into the couch, spreading her body and sighing as she feels the faint throb in her stomach grow stronger.

Her phone rings. Emily picks it up and smiles at the caller ID. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hey, Em.” She hears the slam of the door as he gets into his car. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she strokes Sergio’s soft nose, ignoring the pain slowly building up in her body. “Me and Serg had a long nap,” she tells him. Aaron smiles at that. 

“Are you coming over?” She asks.

“If you want me to.”

Emily bites her lip. Ridiculous as it is, she missed him since their date. The case was long and tiring and she barely got to see him, both of them too focused on solving it and getting home. “I want you to,” she whispers.

He smiles into the phone, warmth spreading through his body at her soft admission. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He murmurs. “I’ll be over in an hour.”

Emily doesn’t know how long it takes for him to arrive, but it feels like forever, time dragging by slowly as the pain builds up in her body again. She curls into herself, wishing she’d had the forethought of grabbing her heating pad before she sat down. Sergio cuddles into her chest, his purrs reverberating through her body, and Emily smiles.

“You’re the best, buddy,” she mumbles. She mindlessly watches TV, waiting for Aaron to arrive but also lamenting the fact that he’ll see her like this, weak and in pain. She almost regrets calling him over. Almost. 

The doorbell rings, making Sergio scramble upright and run to her room in hiding. Emily forces herself up, ignoring the pain in her body as she walks to the door. She opens it and smiles when she sees him, still dressed in his suit from work. “Hi.”

He smiles at her, a soft thing that makes her knees weak. “Hi, Em.”

“What’s all this?” She asks as she opens the door to let him in, her eyes on the bags in his hands. “Dinner,” he says. “And I stopped by the store.” 

Emily takes one of the bags from him and opens it, finding a grocery store’s worth of chocolates, hot chocolate mixes, and packets of mint tea. She feels tears well in her eyes when she spots multiple packets of Maltesers, her favorite chocolate that she always hoarded from Reid and Morgan.

“Aaron..” She hates that her voice is choked up with tears, because why the fuck is she crying anyways? Emily clears her throat and swallows tightly. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he assures, taking the bag from her and setting it down on the coffee table. He smiles gently at her and she turns away, embarrassment flooding her at the thought of him knowing she’s on her period.

“How did you know?” She asks quietly, her cheeks aflame. Was she that obvious? Emily crosses her arms over her chest, chewing on her lip.

Aaron shrugs. “You had a mug of tea instead of coffee this morning. You said your head hurt, and your eyes were sensitive to light.” He points to her crossed arms, “Your arms were held tightly against your stomach.”

Emily rolls her eyes, but her body heats at the thought of him paying so much attention to her. “I hate being profiled.” She grumbles.

He laughs lightly. “I wouldn’t call it profiling. I just recognized the signs,” Aaron muses. “I used to be married, you know,” he murmurs and tucks her hair behind her ear before he can stop himself.

She doesn’t know what makes her say it. Maybe it’s the soft look on his face, or the ache in her body desperately needing to be eased. Maybe it’s because she can finally let her guard down with him, because they’re actually allowed to do this now. “Can I have a hug?” She whispers.

Aaron smiles widely. “Of course,” he nods, and she immediately falls into him. His strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. Emily almost sighs at the warmth of his body against hers, the comforting scent of his cologne engulfing her.

“Thank you,” she says. She feels him press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Emily flushes again, “Sweetheart, huh?” She murmurs. “I like the s-”

She cuts off suddenly and tenses against him as a cramp rolls through her body, the pain making her clutch his shirt and bite her lips. Emily stuffs her face in his neck and breathes out shakily, “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong, Em?” Aaron rubs her back soothingly, the warmth of his palm seeping into her skin. She trembles in his arms and he frowns.

“Nothing,” Emily grunts. She feels her eyes grow watery at the stabbing pain in her abdomen. Emily curses under her breath and swallows tightly, shoving down a sob.

Aaron pulls back and cups her cheeks, gently forcing her to look at him. Her face is scrunched up in pain, her eyes shiny with tears she won’t let herself shed. His stomach twists unpleasantly. “Tell me, honey. Let me take care of you.”

He waits her out as she takes a deep breath and forces the tears down. “My stomach,” she says, her voice trembling, “and my head. And my whole body.” She laughs shakily, shaking her head at herself.

“Okay,” he nods, “let’s sit down,” he says when he notices her leaning her weight against him. Aaron helps her onto the couch and she sits down gratefully, her hands still holding on to his jacket. 

“Did you eat?” His gentle fingers tuck her hair behind her ear and linger on her jaw. Emily leans into it, chasing the unfamiliar feeling.

“When I came back,” she mumbles.

Aaron hums. “That was a long time ago. How about we eat now and you can take some painkillers after?” He suggests, his thumbs gently wandering over her skin. “Do you have any pills you can take?”

Emily nods. “Okay,” Aaron says. “Stay here, I’ll get the plates.”

She lets go of him reluctantly, immediately regretting it when cold air replaces the warmth of his body. Emily wraps her arms around herself as he moves to the kitchen. She feels herself relax at the sound of his footsteps, the closing and opening of the kitchen drawers as he searches for plates strangely soothing. 

He comes back into the living room with several bottles of water cradled in his arms. Emily raises her brows when he drops them next to her on the couch. 

“I’m 90% sure you haven’t drunk anything other than that tea this morning,” he says and she rolls her eyes, because he’s right. She’d always depended on coffee for her hydration, something that annoyed him endlessly, making him always send bottles of water her way. He presses one into her hands. “Drink up.”

“Yes, doc,” she mumbles and uncaps the water, gulping it down while he takes out the takeout boxes and plates their food. Emily’s stomach rumbles at the smell of Italian, and she eagerly accepts the plate he hands her.

“Thank you,” she says before she shovels pasta into her mouth, the heat of the food as it goes down a welcome change from the heat of the pain in her body.

“You’re welcome.” Aaron removes his tie and jacket, neatly folding them over the couch before sitting down next to her. Emily leans into his side and they aimlessly watch TV as they eat, talking softly and catching up before Emily tenses against him again, another cramp making her breathless.

Aaron takes the plate from her hands and sets it on the coffee table. “You ate enough to take the meds now,” he murmurs. Emily grits her teeth and nods, moving off the couch to go get them. He gently pushes her back against the cushions. “Stay, I’ll get them. Where are they?”

She can’t deny the relief she feels. “Medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” she smiles weakly at him. “It’s a pink box.” 

Aaron nods and goes into her ensuite bathroom to grab it. On the way out of it he sees a heating pad on her bed and tucks it under his arm before he can think too much about it.

Emily perks up when she sees the heating pad. “You read my mind,” she smiles, extending her hand for it. Aaron smiles too. He gives it to her and sits down next to her again, handing her the pills after she settles it across her thighs.

“That’s much better,” she sighs after she takes the medicine, the warmth of the heating pad seeping through her body. She turns to him. “Thank you, Aaron,” she smiles at him, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

Aaron’s heart flutters in his chest, her light touches setting him on fire. He pulls back and kisses her forehead, the affection as easy as breathing. “You’re welcome, Emily. Is there anything else you need?” He asks. “What usually makes you feel better?”

She smiles at the simple question, something about it making her stomach flip. He’s looking at her so intently, focused on her every need, eyes honey-like and soft, and she has to bite her lip to physically stop herself from professing her love for him.

“Tea is good,” she says softly. “Usually I’m fine after I take the pills. This heating pad helps too,” she tells him, and he nods.

“Do you want some? Tea, hot chocolate? I got you a pack of each.”

Emily can’t stop herself this time. She throws her arms around his neck and presses her body into his until she’s halfway on his lap. “I know,” she whispers into his neck. “Thank you, baby.”

It slips out without her permission. Emily tenses against him suddenly, glad she’s faced away from him. She cringes as he stills for a moment, but then he moves again.

Aaron’s cheeks heat. She said it so softly, so gently, the term of endearment falling from her lips like the sweetest candy. He smiles gently. Emily stiffens against him and he rubs his hand over her back, his heart fluttering. “You’re welcome, baby.” He holds her tighter and turns to press a kiss against her hair, her face hidden from him.

Emily pulls back to look at him, her cheeks pink. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” she nervously plays with the sleeves of her shirt. “If it ma-”

Aaron silences her with a kiss, his hands gentle on her cheeks. “I don’t mind, Emily,” he murmurs when he pulls back, his eyes locking on her dark ones. “I like it.” He smiles, his dimples showing. She presses her thumbs into them.

“You do?” She asks uncertainly as she traces the divots beneath her fingers. 

“I do, sweetheart,” he stamps another kiss against her lips. “Now, tea or hot chocolate?” He smiles at her. Emily smiles back, her hesitation fading. “Hot chocolate.”

“Okay.” He gently removes her from his lap, his hands strong on her waist. “I’ll be right back.” He sets her back against the couch and hands her another bottle of water as he stands. “Drink this, please.”

Emily rolls her eyes but she obliges. She stifles the urge to follow him into the kitchen and stretches her tired body instead, bringing the heating pad up to her stomach. Her throbbing head has eased some, but the dull ache is still there, low in her abdomen. Emily closes her eyes and groans in discomfort when she feels a sharp stab in her back.

“What?” Aaron asks as he sets her mug down on the table. Emily opens her eyes and huffs, “My back is acting up,” she grumbles. “And my stomach. I’ve only got one damn heating pad.”

Aaron smiles, even though he knows he shouldn’t. “What?” Emily narrows her eyes at him.

He laughs. “I think I can help you with that.” He holds out his hands for her. Emily looks at him curiously and accepts them, letting him pull her up. She raises her brows in bewilderment when he sits down on the couch, legs spread out in front of him, his back against the armrest.

“You made me get up just so you could sit down?”

He rolls his eyes and grabs her hand, pulling her closer to the edge of the couch. “Sit,” he pats his lap. 

Emily flushes. Aaron Hotchner, her boss, the man she’s practically in love with, is inviting her to sit on his lap. She’s not shy about affection, she never has been, but something about him makes her stammer.

“Um,” she hesitates, her widened eyes meeting his. Aaron laughs and squeezes her hand. “Sit, Emily. I won’t bite.”

She sits gingerly. Aaron places his hands on her waist, adjusting her properly so that her back is firm against his chest. “This is definitely a third date activity,” he hears her mumble.

She hears him laugh, right against her ear, the sound warm and soothing. It makes her smile, lean back further against his chest and relax. “You’re acting like we didn’t make out in my car,” he teases.

“That’s different,” she says, but she doesn’t elaborate. Aaron hums. “If you say so. Are you comfortable?”

Comfortable is an understatement. His warmth engulfs her completely, from her shoulders to her toes. His arms are gentle around her waist, and she feels the rise and fall of his chest with each exhale.

“Yeah.” Emily says.

“Good,” he kisses her temple. He grabs the heating pad and gently eases her forward to slip it between their bodies. Emily sighs immediately, the warmth sinking into her bones and soothing her muscles. 

“That’s perfect,” she mumbles, then winces as a cramp hits her. “Just my stomach now,” she tells him. A part of her is surprised at how easily she’s admitting it to him. She’s never liked showing weakness, never liked letting people dote over her. But from him, she craves it.

Aaron’s palms rest lightly on her stomach. “Is it okay if I put my hands under your shirt?” He asks.

Emily laughs, partly in shock. “Wow, feeling me up already? That’s definitely a fourth date activity,” she teases. “You’re certainly more forward than I’d expected, Agent Hotchner.”

“Not like that,” he chides gently. “On your stomach, I mean. I’ve been told I’m the equivalent of a human furnace.” He smiles fondly at the memory of Haley saying that to him as she snuggled into him to ward off the cold. Aaron swallows, expecting to find the familiar lump in the back of his throat at the thought of her, but it’s not there.

“Only if you want me to, Emily.” He assures when she stays silent, contemplating. “I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable, I just want to help you feel better.”

They’d touched before, roaming hands wandering over each other’s bodies, desperate and learning as they kissed. But always over clothes; her fingers desperately fisting his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin even through the fabric, his palms searching over the thick material of her jackets. Emily can’t deny wanting to feel his skin against hers.

“Okay,” she says, her voice hushed and soft but sure. Aaron nods and slides his hands under the hem of her shirt, lightly cupping her stomach.

“Oh my god.” Emily holds back a gasp. His palms are huge, radiating warmth as if he’d just stuck them in front of a fire. She slumps against his chest, feeling the pain in her abdomen already beginning to fade at the heat from his hands. “Jesus,” she breathes, surrounded by warmth, the tension leaking from her shoulders. “Human furnace is right.”

Aaron smiles against her neck. “Haley always said this helped.”

“She was onto something,” Emily sighs and lets her head fall back against his shoulder. Aaron kisses her forehead, “Better?”

“So much better,” she hums. She leans forward to grab the remote from the couch, channel surfing until she finds a random movie that they keep as background noise as they talk, continuing conversations that were cut short in their date. They don’t know how much time passes by as they sit and chat, just enjoying each other’s company.

Aaron suddenly remembers her hot chocolate. “Your hot chocolate’s probably cold by now,” he laughs lightly.

Emily smiles up at him. “That’s okay. I’m warm enough,” she presses a kiss to his jaw, a silent thanks for his hands still on her body. 

He’s telling her about Jack and his new obsession with dinosaurs, the way his son forces him to watch Jurassic Park nearly every weekend. Emily smiles at the way his eyes light up as he smiles, his dimples deep in his cheeks. She suddenly realizes he’s wasting precious time with his son just to be with her.

“Thank you, Aaron,” Emily says abruptly, cutting him off. “For what, sweetheart?” He smiles at her, gently tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

Emily shrugs. “For being here with me.” She hasn’t said it yet, and neither has he, but tonight he made her feel nothing but loved. It sinks into her bones, just as tangibly as the heat flowing from his body and into hers. “For taking care of me,” she whispers, afraid if she’ll raise her voice any higher it’ll crack. No one’s ever done it before.

She’s always been alone. Always depended on herself and no one else, picking herself up from the ground and looking after herself, her body. Having someone else do it for a change should feel strange, but it doesn’t, because it’s him. Even before he’d always take care of her; subtly, wordlessly. Placing a bottle of water next to her elbow, switching her coffee for decaf when she’s too restless.

Her eyes are misty and she tries to blink away the tears, force them down before he sees them. Aaron gently cups her face. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Emily,” he says quietly. “I’ll always take care of you,” he wipes away a tear that escapes from the corner of her eye. He kisses her forehead, swallows down the three little words he so desperately wants to say. “Thank you for letting me.”

How very Aaron Hotchner of him; to thank her when he’s the one that should be thanked. Emily smiles and kisses him gently, letting him hug her to his chest. Her eyes are still glassy when he pulls back. Aaron doesn’t like that, so he tells her more stories of Jack to make her laugh, and he smiles when she does, her body jostling his.

She tries to stay awake after that, but she’s so warm and comfortable, the pain finally leaving her body, Aaron’s hands and the medicine finally kicking in. Emily tries to listen to him as he talks, she really does, but his rich, soothing voice only lulls her further into sleep. 

“Em?” Aaron whispers, his question going unanswered twice. He shifts to look down at her, smiling when he finds her asleep. “Emily,” he gently rubs her arm, waking her up.

“Hm?” She mumbles drowsily, shifting to curl sideways on his lap, her ear pressed against his chest. “You should sleep in your bed, sweetheart,” he murmurs, easing the heating pad from under her body and throwing it over the couch.

“In a minute.” She slurs. Aaron wraps an arm tight around her shoulders, another one slotted under her knees, and carefully stands up, carrying her in his arms. She doesn’t stir as he takes her to her room and sets her down on her bed, tucking the blanket around her. A streaky black ball jumps on the bed and curls next to her on top of the covers.

Aaron smiles. “Hi Serg.” He lightly pets him before going back to the living room, clearing away the dishes and tidying up the small mess they made. He turns off the TV and grabs a bottle of water that he sets on Emily’s nightstand.

“Aaron?” She mumbles, her eyes opening just enough for her to see his blurry silhouette. 

“Shh, Em, go back to sleep.” He kisses her forehead. “I’m going home now but I’ll see you tomorrow if you’re feeling better, okay?”

“Kay,” she yawns and adjusts the blanket over her ear. “Love you,” she whispers, so low he almost doesn’t hear it. But he does.

Aaron holds his breath, his heart racing. She stills, already asleep, the sound of her even breaths filling the quiet room. Aaron smiles, so wide his cheeks ache. He gently kisses her temple, careful not to disturb her. “I love you too.” He murmurs into her hair.

He thinks about it on the way home, as he’s getting ready for bed, while he’s taking out his suit for the next morning. It’s on the tip of his tongue when she walks in a few minutes late the next day with a sheepish smile on her lips. He wants so badly to say it again, but he waits for her. 

He almost begins to lose hope, almost says it first himself when she admits it, chewing nervously on her lips as if she expects him not to say it back.

She’s dead wrong, and he proves it to her.

[madiomens]

Just Pretend [n.s.]

Chapter Fifteen

I stirred in Noah's arms, my back pressed against his torso and his arms wrapped tightly around me. I squinted in the room, the little daylight peaking through the curtains. It was now just a steady rain shower outside. Noah rubbed my back and played with my hair last night until I finally drifted off to actual sleep for the first time in over 24 hours. The alarm clock on his dresser read 12:47 pm, signaling we'd slept close to 12 hours. I yawned and rolled over in his arms so I was facing him, meeting his sleepy face watching my every move.

I softly smiled at him. "Morning."

He smiled back and reached up to brush the hair off my face. "Morning. You sleep ok?"

I nodded and wrapped my arm around his torso. "Finally."

He leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead, holding his lips there for a few moments. He pulled back and rolled onto his back to stretch, muscles flexing under my arm. I pushed myself up to rest on his chest, holding my head up to look down at him. He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want us to see other people." I whispered, almost inaudible.

His eyes searched mine before he leaned his face up to press his lips to mine. "Then we won't." He mumbled against my lips. "I only want you."

I pulled back to look at him, bringing my hand up to hold his face. "Good." I said before pressing my lips back onto his.

I pulled back and looked down at him. "You can't escape me and all of my problems now."

He chuckled and brought a hand up to pinch my nose like he tends to do. "I'll take all the problems."

"Well, my first problem is I need to take a piping hot shower to loosen up my muscles." I said, pushing myself out of his embrace and off the bed.

"Can I join if I promise to be good?" He questioned with a smirk, causing me to laugh.

"Deal."

He wasn't good.

I walked into the kitchen with Noah in tow, the smell of bacon filling my nose. I took a deep inhale and let it out with a happy sigh, my eyes landing on the rest of the guys drinking and cooking. Bryan and Matt had made their way to the house and were sitting in the barstools at the counter, drinks in hand.

"Are we day drinking?" I questioned, causing all their heads to turn towards us.

Everyone cheered and ran to us to pull us into a group hug, causing me to laugh as I was squished by a lot of men.

"Guys, can't breathe." I choked out through the tiny air pocket I could find.  The group hug dissipated and Noah and I laughed at them, shaking our heads at each other.

"Join us. Bryan and Matt brought groceries and liquor so we are staying in and drinking. We have plenty food, games, and movies for the day." Nicholas said, sliding me what looked like a BLT.

"I'll join if scary movies are involved." I said before taking a bite of the sandwich, sighing happily that actual food was hitting my stomach.

"Wouldn't be a rainy day in without them." He replied with a grin, taking a sip from his cup.

I turned to Noah who had an amused grin on his face. "Looks like I'm making a drink then."

I squeezed his hand with mine before making my way further in the kitchen to grab a cup. I filled it with ice and grabbed the bottle of Malibu when Folio made his way to my side, bumping my shoulder with his.

"You alright?" He questioned.

I nodded and smiled at him before wrapping my arms around his waist in a hug. "Thank you for everything the past couple days. It means a lot to me having a friend like you."

His smile slightly faltered before it widened more than before as he hugged me back. "I'm always here. No matter what."

Noah walked on the other side of him to throw his arm over his shoulders. "Thank you for being there for her when I was being stupid."

Folio patted his back to return the hug. "Of course. Don't be a fucking idiot and hurt her again. You're extremely tall but I'll kick your ass."

Noah chuckled and looked past him so he could catch my eye. "Never again."

We made our drinks and ate our food before piling onto the long sectional in front of the TV. We decided to have an Insidious marathon along with lots of popcorn and snacks. The liquor and sodas were on the table in front of us and our bodies were much warmer from both the alcohol and the body heat of being squished together. Noah's arm was slung across my shoulders and I was settled into his chest, blanket situated perfectly so I could hide my face if need be.

I don't know when it happened, but before I knew it I was waking up from falling into a drunken slumber. I slowly picked my head up off of Noah's chest, my eyes landing on his sleeping face. I slowly pulled my phone out of my hoodie pocket to check the time, my screen reading  2:23 AM. I stifled a yawn and put it back in my pocket, stretching my body from its curled up position. Noah stirred under me and stretched as well before wrapping his arms tightly around me. I chuckled breathily and laid back onto his chest, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck.

"We gotta pack our stuff up. Our flight is at 6." I mumbled against his skin.

He groaned and stretched his arms out, his hands landing on the heads of Nicholas and Folio on either side of us. The two guys groaned and shifted out of their sleep.

"Wake up. We gotta pack." Noah said, voice raspy.

I pushed off of the couch, stretching my arms up and yawning. I made sure the guys were waking up before making my way to my room to get my stuff packed. I pretty much live out of a suitcase these days other than my essentials, so packing was a fast process for me. I rolled my suitcase with my duffel bag on top of it into the hallway and walked into Noah's room to check on how his process was going. He walked out of the bathroom with his essentials and let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at me standing in the doorway. 

"How the hell are you always so fast?" He questioned, putting his items in the front of his suitcase.

I chuckled and crossed my arms across my chest, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't take anything more than I absolutely need out of my bags."

"I gotta start doing that." He said, zipping his suitcase up and throwing the duffel on top like I did.

I smiled at him as he walked up to me, sliding my hands into his hoodie pocket and dropping my head back to look up at him. "Ready?"

He hummed and leaned down to press his lips to mine, causing me to chuckle into the kiss. He pulled back and reached up to pinch my nose, causing me to scrunch it. "Now I am."

He pat my ass when I turned to grab my luggage, causing me to shoot him a squinted look. He laughed as he followed me down the hallway, the rest of the guys coming into view.

"Gosh, finally ready?" Folio questioned.

I chuckled. "This guy uses more hair product than I do."

"Hey!" Noah objected, pout on his face. "I like to take care of these locks."

We laughed as we opened the door to leave, the previous rain just a drizzle now. We piled all of our luggage into the vans waiting for us before making our way to the airport. A few hours of napping while waiting for our flight and a short plane ride later we were landing in Italy for the next two shows. Our Airbnb was extremely nice. We were all in awe as we looked around at the size of it. Bryan and Matt were staying with us this time, mainly because of the size of the house we got, and we have an entire free day tomorrow so they were already planning a party to throw later.

At nine in the morning.

I yawned as I walked up the stairs to find a bedroom, yanking my suitcase behind me. I turned to walk into a bedroom when Noah cleared his throat from behind me, causing me to turn around.

"What do you think you're doing?" He questioned as he continued to walk to the bedroom at the end of the hall. "You're sleeping with me and all the guys know it."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, turning to follow him into the master bedroom. I shut the door softly behind me and squatted down to unzip the suitcase, pulling out my essentials to put into the ensuite bathroom. Noah walked in behind me and set his down as well before leaning down to place a trail of kisses down my neck. I sighed happily, my eyes sliding shut before I turned around to face him.

"I have a question." I said, placing my hands on his chest so he would look at me.

"Ask me anything." He said, looking deeply into my eyes.

I chewed on the inside of my lip while I contemplated my words. "Did you sleep with that girl the other night?" I questioned, voice just above a whisper. I looked down to pick at my nails, a nervous habit I always tend to do.

He pulled my hand into his to stop my nail picking, causing me to look up at him. He brought his hands up to cup my cheeks, eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. "I did not sleep with her." He said, enunciating every word as if to drill them into my head. "I swear on my life."

I stared into his eyes for awhile longer before nodding and standing on my tiptoes to press my lips into his. I placed my hands on his cheeks tightly, pulling him to me as close as I possibly could.

"Let's keep up the tradition." I mumbled against his lips, causing him to chuckle.

He spun us around and started walking us backwards to the bedroom so we could christen another Airbnb.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

okay can we please get a drabble of ryker visiting carlos' bedroom for morning cuddles i think that is just the sweetest thing

Masterlist

For as long as he could remember Carlos had been a light sleeper. He assumed it’d come from always having to be prepared for the worst. When he lived with his owners, the sound of their footsteps creeping down the hallway was enough to startle him awake, and he’d spend hours afterwards waiting for the moment they opened his door or appeared in the hallway, even if it was plausible that it wasn’t happening. 

So when the door to his bedroom began to creep Its way open early one morning, Carlos was awake and watching, eyes flickering shut every now and again before forcing their way back open once more. At least here he knew he was safe enough to not have to wake up fully. 

“Carlos?” Ryker whispered as he peered through the crack in the door. Carlos could hear his feet shuffling nervously on the carpet in the hallway, along with his fingers fumbling aimlessly with the doorknob. “You awake?” 

Carlos hummed, letting his eyes fall shut once more as he slowly pushed himself onto his back. “‘s everythin’ okay?” 

“Yeah. It’s just- Adam doesn’t wanna wake up and I don’t wanna touch him without asking first, so I was wonderin’ if you were awake and if you wanted a hug. You know… ‘cause you like those.”

Both of them knew exactly what he was trying to say. Even in his half-asleep state, Carlos found himself smiling. Thanks to his enhanced night vision, he could easily see just how awkward Ryker looked standing there, doing his best to come up with an excuse that sounded plausible enough to get away with. 

So he decided to humour him, and with a toothy grin that showed off his fangs he lifted the covers as an invitation for the human to climb into bed with him. “I could do with a hug, yeah.” 

Without a second thought, Ryker squeezed through the gap and quietly shut the door again before practically diving under the covers with a noise that suggested he was happy to be where it was warm again. “You’re so lucky I can just tell when you need my hugs,” he teased, to which Carlos snorted and tucked him in tight beneath the warm covers of his bed. “I woke up and my immediate thought was ‘he needs me’.” 

He gave Ryker a few playfully condescending pets to the head as he shuffled closer. “Uh huh.” 

Before too long, Ryker’s entire body was pressed up against Carlos’ front; fingers gripping tightly at the back of his shirt to keep him from leaving. As the vampire lightly rubbed his back and talked to him, he realised just how much Ryker resembled a child in this moment. A small, innocent child who just wanted to be held and loved in the same way he loved others. 

With his face squished up against Carlos’ chest, he even sported the same childlike pout that he had as a nine year old, when he’d cling to him after a nightmare or a particularly bad day at school. The way he traced small, abstract patterns into the vampire’s back and mumbled on about things that were barely coherent to anyone other than himself - it all brought him back so many years. 

He found comfort in being able to enjoy some of his memories. So many of them were filled with violence, blood and everything he didn’t want to see again. 

But when he thought back to time spent with that little boy, all he could remember was good things. Good, comforting things. 

He thought that was one of the biggest blessings Ryker had given him. Memories he could cherish for the rest of his life.

[livsgovan69]

Polaroids

Notes: Nothing

Timeline: 1970’s

Warnings: SMUT, oh god, drinking!!, swearing maybe?, filthy filthy stuff so you’ve been warned!!

Thick hazes of cigarette smoke loomed over the staircase that me and Brian were trying to stumble up onto, doing your best to avoid crashing into the heavy makeouts the smokers seemed to be having on each step, each cigarette burning into nothing as their owners were distracted. I  was a little tipsy already as I found an empty room for Brian and myself, clinging tightly to the bottle of bourbon I had snatched from the masses of booze on the table downstairs.  

“In here, Bri.” I giggled as Brian followed behind me, closing the door and fumbling for the light switch. 

“Fancy a drink?” Brian nodded eagerly, collapsing himself to sit next to me on the floor, watching as I opened the bottle and took a swig from it, wiping my mouth on his coat that he had draped around me hours previously. I smiled as Brian took the bottle from me, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he drank, his tongue coming out to lick his lips once he had handed the drink back to me. I looked around the room, spotting a polaroid camera - probably Freddie’s - and took it from the shelf it sat on.  

“Pose, baby.” I said, giggling as Brian shook his curls away from his face and lay his hands under his chin, pouting his lips like a movie star. The camera flashed and he opened his eyes, crawling round to sit by me and watched the photo develop as I shook it.  

“Look at you!” You laughed as Brian took the picture from me and gasped in a facade of lustful longing for the subject in his own photograph.  

“Your turn!” He said and I smiled for the camera while Brian tucked his lip between his teeth to focus, snapping the photo and watching contently as it emerged, shaking it about while I moved to sit in his lap.  

“My gorgeous girl.” He whispered as we both looked at the picture. 

“Most beautiful lady in the whole world.” 

“I wonder if that’s the whiskey talking,” I chuckled as Brian shook his head, frowning at my dismissal of his praise. He grabbed my jaw lightly, ghosting his thumb over my lips while I hummed at his touch.  

“You’re so pretty, Tash.” His smile was lazy and his eyes shone through a dull tipsy glaze as he tried to focus on every bit of my face at once. He moved both of his hands to rest either side of my face, squishing my cheeks slightly as he brought me in for a kiss, capturing my lips firmly, his silver rings cool on my face. I sighed as Brian held me under his sweet kiss, running my tongue along his bottom lip that tasted like cherries, reaching between us both to hook my finger under one of his necklaces and using the beads to pull him even closer to me. His hands had left my face now and roamed my body with desperate curiosity, moving over the dips of my waist and up to my chest, squeezing my breasts through the fabric of his coat before tearing it from my shoulders to get a better feel of me. 

“Brian,” I murmured as his lips left my own and began making their way down my throat, causing me to forego holding onto his necklace and tug on his curls instead, 

“Want you, baby.” Brian hummed against my skin and lifted his head, a small smirk adorning his lips. He moved me off of his lap and stood up, making his way over to the bed on the other side of the room. 

“Where do you think you’re going, hmm?” I cooed, smiling as he tilted his head and walked back over to me. I readjusted myself to kneel in front of him and a deep blush spread over Brian’s cheeks. 

“You look so good like this, Tash.” His breath hitched as I ran my palm along the bulge in his tight trousers before undoing the clasp and pulling them down his legs, 

“So, so good - oh-!” I latched my lips onto his length through his briefs, moving my tongue in slow stripes, wetting the fabric while his cock twitched against my mouth. He rocked his hips and I brought my hands up to rest on his thighs, holding him still enough to have my own way with him.  

“Tasha,” He sighed through gritted teeth, 

“Please. Please, angel, please don’t tease me.” I caved into his begging - I never could resist him like this - and pulled his briefs down, helping him step out of them. His cock lay unbearably hard against his stomach, the tip red and dripping pre cum down his shaft and I licked my lips, taking him into my hand and pumping him a few times before leaning forwards and licking a long strip from his base to his tip, revelling in the shudder that came from him as he tipped his head back, tensing then relaxing completely, submitting to my touch. I took his tip into my mouth, swirling my tongue over his slit and sucking quickly while my hand twisted around the rest of him. 

I shuffled forwards, finding a softer patch of carpet for my knees to rest on and pushing his length further down my throat, bobbing my head and taking more of him with each stroke until my nose met his pubic bone and I pulled away from him completely. Brian whined at the lack of contact as I caught my breath slightly, moving to wrap my lips around him again, this time taking him all the way down my throat for the first time, a loud groan erupting from Brian’s lips above me. You cupped his balls in one hand, squeezing him gently and moving my thumb over the sensitive skin, an impossibly dirty string of whimpered gratitude piercing through the thick tension that hung in the room as I pleasured him, my other hand remaining on his thigh, rubbing up to his hip and back down again to soothe him. 

Brian was trying his best to keep his eyes open to look at me taking him so well on my knees but with every thrust I let him make into my mouth, he found himself fighting the urge to roll his eyes back, eventually doing so and flinging his head back once more, desperately flustered in his need to see me. With this desperation, an idea struck his mind and he quickly stepped back, hissing as he took my pleasure away from himself. 

“W-wait.” He said as I sit  back on my heels to give my knees a break while Brian walked over to where I had sat earlier, taking a deep swig from the half empty bottle on the floor before picking up the camera and coming back to me with a grin. 

“Can I?” It took all his might not to moan the words as he watched my eyes widen. 

“Yes.” I grinned, kneeling once more and moving my hands back to where they were, shaking my head to move my hair off of my face and wrapping my lips around his tip. 

“Look - mhm - look at me, sweetheart.” Brian groaned and I looked up into the camera lens, moving my lips down his twitching cock agonisingly slowly, his thighs trembling under my hand as he took a photo, feebly shaking it around while I continued to suck him off. Brian was struggling to stay standing as he looked at the developed photo, staring into my seemingly innocent eyes, focusing on the mix of my saliva and his own pre cum that could be seen dripping down my chin, illuminated by the camera flash. He knew he was close. As much as he wanted to finish in my mouth, an idea was scratching at his brain and he was set on making it happen. 

“Thas!” He gasped and I looked up at him, slowing your movements slightly but not stopping.  

“Take your dress off.” I pulled away from him and did as I was told, lifting my dress over my head and throwing it down next to Brian’s velvet trousers, taking off my bra and revealing my breasts to him earning a deep groan. 

“Can I-” Brian hesitated and I lay my hand on his thigh to comfort him, 

“Can I cum on your face?” I had to admit I was rather taken aback by his request - taken aback and incredibly aroused. My attention was brought to the camera that had appeared in his hands again and I quickly put two and two together, smirking slightly at his naughty idea and nodding, placing a kiss on his slit and smiling as he moaned. Brian thrust into my mouth, fucking my throat with eager force, desperate for his orgasm. He could feel his cock twitching with every rut of his hips until suddenly the string snapped, sending him into an intense frenzy of overstimulating pleasure. He threw his head back, his jaw falling slack while an almost pornographic moan left his parted lips. 

I opened your mouth to catch some of his cum as it spurted from his tip, covering my face and dripping down to my bare chest. Brian made quick staggered thrusts into nothing but the air as pleasure washed over him in waves. He only just about remembered to focus on the camera, lifting it as steadily as he could and taking the photo, smiling as I took it from him to develop myself, letting him come down from his high properly. The photograph was positively filthy. The image of me looking so used, with my hair askew and my mouth so obediently open with Brian’s own arousal dripping from my lips, coating my skin completely - it was enough to make him hard all over again. He took it from you as he sat down beside me, pulling me in for a rather sweaty hug, his ragged breathing falling over my face. 

“Christ,” He said, tracing the shape of me in the image and reaching behind him to pick up the other one he took, comparing the two, 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman, you know that?” I giggled a little breathlessly, nodding my head and pressing a kiss to his jaw while Brian stayed entirely mesmerized by the photos.

 --- Bonus ending: 

Brian fumbled his hands in his pockets in search for his wallet while Roger stood waiting, Freddie’s and John’s money already in his hands to have their train tickets bought for them,

“Here it is,” Brian said, opening the leather wallet and pulling a few £1 notes from it. Along with the notes fell two white squares and before Brian could even guess what they were, Roger stooped down to pick them up from the pavement, absentmindedly turning them over as he handed them back and catching a glimpse of the images on the other side, his eyes widening slightly as a smirk tugged at his lips. Brian was bright red as he snatched the pictures you must have placed there back from him, 

“Was that at the party?” Roger said, his mischievous smirk now in full action, 

“Was wondering where you’d gone. Maybe I'll have to join you next time.” He plucked a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips to prevent his mocking grin from spreading further, lighting it before adding Brian’s money to the pile in his hand and turning away to go and buy the tickets leaving Brian standing frozen on the side of the road outside the station. God, I was in for it when he got home.

(Coment if you want a part 2 with Roge)

[xxcallmemaryxx]

sorry if you’ve answered this before but can we get some headcannons on how the ghouls/ghoulettes would cuddle .. ueue

Cuddly ghoulssss absolutely 😍

Aether: CUDDLE BUG. He is alllllll about that loving, intimate, physical touch. He will pull you into him and have you use him as your pillow. His chest is the perfect size for you to squish your face into and just fall asleep right there on him. If he wants to be cuddled though, he will smoosh his face into your chest and just breath you in. His arms are locked around your back so you can’t go anywhere.

Rain: he likes to admire you in your sleep, so he will like to have you on your side facing him. That usually ends with you pressed into him, with your face hidden in his neck and his leg thrown over your waist. He keeps a clawed hand at the back of your neck to keep you as close to him as possible, if you try to pull away at all during your sleep he will gently guide you back into him.

Dew: all I have to say is Bear Hug. His arms and legs are locked *tightly* around you the second you get into bed. If it’s just the two of you he is snuggling into you, breathing you in, pulling you impossibly closer and closer until it’s almost as if you’re one being. He can’t sleep properly otherwise. He needs you to hold onto. Goodluck getting up at all during the night or in the morning. Because you will be pulled back down and back into his embrace even tighter than before.

Swiss: he loves to tuck himself all snug behind you. Wrapping his arms around your front and being able to feel your whole body against the length of his brings him true comfort. He kisses into the back of your head, and then buries his face into the back of your neck and continues to leave kisses all over. He loves waking up and seeing you still happily tucked closely against him. He tangles his legs with yours and just holds you.

Mountain: Mountain loves to just have you. It doesn’t matter how or where. Whatever position the two of you end up falling into is good for him. If you’re laying off to the side, he will pull you into him. If he wants to be held, he will make a home for himself snuggled into your chest. Despite his height… he will wrap his arms and legs around you if he wants too. He thinks it’s incredibly cute when you try to spoon him, but he always end up rolling over and pressing himself further into you anyway.

[ali-annals]

Cracket

Pairing: Timari

Rating: G

WC: ~0.6k

A/N: I wrote this in half an hour out of spite for @/boldlyanxious.

The ball sailed past the half-a-million dollars’ worth vase and hit the mirror, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces with a sharp crash.

Daizzi tucked the bat behind them and cringed. “Oops…”

“Oh no! What are we going to do?” Mullo squeaked, hovering above the pile of glass and wringing their paws nervously.

Footsteps sounded and Marinette came running around the corner. “What happened?”

Ziggy sheepishly faced their Guardian. “We were playing cricket…and Daizzi missed Mullo’s ball.”

Marinette surveyed the scene and sighed. “Please tell me you learned from your lesson and now know why I told you not to play in here? At least it was only the mirror. We can replace that a lot easier than Bruce’s great-great-aunt’s vase.”

It was a hideous thing, painted with a replica of Boticelli’s The Birth of Venus, and oysters and pearls covered the sides as decoration.

Longg, who had been acting as umpire, fetched a broom and dustpan to start cleaning up the mess.

The large pieces were dumped into a bag and the kwami zoomed over the area, making sure no small pieces of glass would be left to shred the foot of an unsuspecting passer-by.

Tim rounded the corner, mug pointed at the sky as he drained the dregs of his coffee mug.

Crnch!

Tim moved his foot. “What was that?” he asked. 

“Cricket,” Mari replied, tying the garbage bag tightly. “The kwa-”

“I squished a cricket?!” Tim yelped, looking around for more. “Where are they? You know I hate locusts and anything related to them after I had to eat them in the desert!”

His flailing mug knocked the vase off the table and Mari watched in slow-mo, horrified, as $500,000 worth of gaudy porcelain splintered into a million shards.

The crash was louder and sharper than the mirror’s, but this time the shocked silence was broken by a wail as Tim fell to his knees in front of the pieces of his mug.

“My coffffffeeeeeeee!!!!!”

Marinette was torn between horror at the accident, relief that it wasn’t her or the kwami who broke the vase so she wouldnt have to reimburse Bruce, and stunned bemusement at her overtired and overcaffeinated boyfriend’s antics.

“Tim, you finished your coffee,” she pointed out. “I think you need sleep more than you need coffee.”

“But it was my favourite mug! You painted it!” He protested, letting her pull him to his feet and head towards the stairs. 

“You have like five favourite mugs. You’ll survive. Come on,” she tugged at him again. “Aren’t you at all worried about the vase you broke?”

“Nah, Alfred leaves out heirlooms Bruce hates so they’ll be a casualty of our shenamingiaminans.” Tim’s head lolled onto her shoulder as he robotically climbed the stairs.

“You mean shenanigans?” Mari asked, her eyes dancing in amusement at her boyfriend’s slurring and the Wayne butler’s scheming.

“Yeah. That. Shemangans.” He lifted his arm to emphasize his carefreeness and lightly hit her cheek. “Sorry. Bruce hates the heirlooms but his extended relatives would give him no end of trouble if he got rid of them, so Alfred came up with the plan to put out only the things that Bruce doesn’t care about or wants broken, so he has a perfectly good excuse as to why they disappear.” He told her all the antics Bruce and Wayne extended relatives got up to as the caffeine delirium set in.

They reached the top of the stairs and Mari dragged him down the hall, then tucked him into bed. “I’ll make you another mug tomorrow, okay?”

A soft snore sounded from Tim’s pillow and she smiled. “Sleep well, mon canard.”

[moonchildstyles]

I know you've written about aster y/n's birthday but what about Harry's birthday. I'm sure she'd surprise him with some sexy but cute lingerie.

would u ever write another smutty aster blurb with aloooot of daddy kink and harry is lowkey rough but she likes it?

how do u feel about aster getting a little rough in bed? I know they’re known for making love but I feel like you could still make it intimate

wordcount: 29.5k+

—————

"Harry, stop! I'm trying to ask you a question!"

(Y/N)'s command was more than lacking in conviction as she wheezed it through bouts of giggles. Despite her half-hearted request, Harry didn't stop his attack on the soft curves of her sides for even a second, his fingers digging in tickling runs over the sensitive skin. As he lent over her, chest bare with his tattoos on display, his hair hung around them like a curtain as if the strands could offer an extra layer of privacy in the middle of his darkened bedroom. 

"A question that y'already know the answer to," Harry sung, teasing her over the sound of her stilted laughter. If he wasn't careful, she was going to lose a lung with the way she sucked in oxygen only to pump it out a moment later under duress. 

"Pl-Please! I can't breathe!" (Y/N) squeaked. Begging didn't quite have the same effect through a giggling smile, though, she was learning. 

"But y'look so pretty laughing like this," Harry crooned, hovering closer above her, "Why should I stop?" 

Fitting her arms around his shoulders, (Y/N) tried her final strategy. She clung to him like a koala, hoping to somehow disarm him or even squish his hands between their bodies to make him immobile. In the end, when her form was pressed to his, it worked as the perfect distraction. Harry couldn't stop himself before he was moving instinctively and wrapping his arms around her to hold her as she wrapped around him like a vine. She panted in his ear, struggling to catch her breath as he rolled them to have (Y/N) lay atop his chest with their legs tangled. 

"Thank you," she peeped between gasps, feeling flush after the tirade a single question had brought on. 

Harry, with his arms wrapped tightly around her middle and his face tucked into her neck, whispered, "I didn't hurt you or anything, right?" 

She was quick to shake her head at his words, the movement stilted in her own position with her face in his shoulder. "No, just couldn't breathe for a little. I know you were only playing, it's okay." 

Letting out a deep breath, he flexed his hold on her in a tight pulse before turning to press a kiss to her hairline. His lips lingered on her skin, the cool sliver of his lip ring a bright spot against (Y/N)'s heated skin. 

A beat of silence passed, (Y/N) melting in his old before she burst with the same question that had prompted Harry's play wrestling. 

"So... You never really answered me," she drawled, hoping her hidden position in his chest would shield her if he decided he wanted to play around again, "What do you want for your birthday?" 

Harry sighed, his breath fanning through her hair. "Lovebug," he started, amusement and exasperation mingling in his tone, "I did answer you. I don't want anything, you know that. I only want you." 

(Y/N) held back a hmph. What a lame answer. 

"But you already have me." 

"I know," his classic lopsided smile audible in his words, "I have you every night."

A heat raised to (Y/N)'s cheeks that she was sure he felt against his chest. Despite the fact it was clear he had her last night with the minimal amounts of clothing on both of them—(Y/N) in only his shirt and Harry with boxers slung low on his hips—and the mess of sheets and blankets that wasn't just from the mess of hands Harry woke her up with, he hadn't needed to say it like that.  

"But—Harry, I—"(Y/N) floundered, unable to find her tongue through her heart lodged in her throat. 

His laughter rumbled his chest underneath her, the sound ringing close to (Y/N)'s ears. "You're so cute, baby." 

Though her mouth was now dry and her heart pulsed at his mumbled compliment, (Y/N) tried again, "B-but, I'm not a real present. I want to get you something nice like you always do for me." 

Harry finally reared back from the home he made in her shoulder, forcing her to pull back and fall under his observing gaze. The lack of black kohl around his lashes did nothing to soften the intensity of his eye contact, though the moss color of his irises were undeniably tender as they took her in. The lip ring she was very familiar with glinted in the low light that filtered through the cracks in his curtains, a matching hoop to the black ring pierced through his nose. All around him, his hair fanned out in twisting curls, his own form of a messy halo though he had dubbed her to be the angel between them. 

It was moments like these, when she had an unobstructed view of him—of the love of her life—that she couldn't help but be grateful for everything that happened before they met. If her parents had raised her differently, if she hadn't grown to be the person she was now, who knows if she ever would have had this? Had him? 

No matter how many times he embarrassed her with his flirty words or tickled her until her breath was stolen and tears entered her eyes, she wouldn't trade a single second of it. 

"I really don't need anything, darling, I promise. 'M not talking shit when I say you're m'present. That's enough for me. I don't need anything else when I've got you." His voice came out in a croon between them, as if he were sharing a secret only to be heard by her. 

(Y/N) felt her features round out at his words, softening the lines and creases. Her lips curved into a gentle line on her face, tender as his eyes. 

"Are you sure?" she pressed, settling her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him.

"'M sure, love," he said, craning his neck to press a delicate kiss to her nose, "Jus' want y'to spend the day with me, that'll be enough for me."

As (Y/N) melted into his hold, feeling every bit of his warmth through her thin top, she liked that she was enough for him.  

Still, she was going to ask Mitch if there was anything Harry mentioned that he wanted.

—————

Waiting for the waffle maker to beep, (Y/N) did her best to blink the sleep crust from her eyes. How Harry was able to do this every morning without fail was beyond her. Breakfast was nice and all, but sleep was something she savored more than any food that was served before ten a.m.. 

But, this was for Harry, she reminded herself. This whole seven a.m. wakeup and padding across the cold floor in bare feet, was for Harry. Today was his birthday—the first birthday of his that they were spending together—and she was determined to do any and everything she could to make this day special for him. Though she ultimately decided to stick to his request of no presents (mostly, it had been because when she had consulted Mitch, and he had offered her the same answers that Harry had given her; that He said he didn't want anything and hadn't dropped any hints to indicate otherwise), she did have a few tricks up her sleeve that she was going to utilize to the best of her ability. 

If he wanted her as his gift, she was going to be the best little present she could be. 

From the corner of her eye, the bouquet of flowers she had picked up and braved the world for before eight o'clock caught her attention. It wasn't exactly a traditional present, but he got her flowers all the time. She hoped he liked the arrangement, even if there was an extra smattering of pink baby's breath dotted through out upon her request. 

The waffle maker beeped a little too loud for the early morning, making (Y/N) jump in her spot. A heavy sigh was sucked in through her nose, hoping the vanilla scented oxygen would have a hand in hopefully waking her up. Plating the crispy waffle, (Y/N) reached for the few fixings she had grabbed after spooning the batter into he maker. Some special vanilla infused butter Harry had found on one of his grocery trips was smeared on top before a couple of spoonfuls of split raspberries were dotted across. Instead of syrup, (Y/N) added a drizzling of honey to settle in the punched out squares of the waffle, something she hoped he would appreciate since they were out of the regular syrup after he and Mitch had a long night filled with the munchies a couple of days ago. The finishing touch came in the form of a yellow and white striped birthday candle shoved right in the middle.

Now, she had to hope he hadn't somehow woken up through the minimum amount of noise she made all morning and surprise him with his birthday breakfast. 

Balancing the plate in her hands, one of Harry's lighters tucked away in the pocket of her (his) hoodie, (Y/N) danced around Evie as she made her way to the bedroom. The kitten seemed just as excited to wish Harry a happy birthday it seemed (and to probably get bits and pieces of the waffle that (Y/N) knew she would cave and hand out like treats). 

Evie let out a chirping meow as they approached the door, her voice a bright squeak in the middle of the quiet, to which (Y/N) shushed her for. "Not yet, Evie, we'll sing in a minute when he wakes up," she murmured, carefully twisting the doorknob and entering the bedroom she so missed when she had been out and about.

Just as she hoped, Harry was still snug in bed. His head was cushioned by the black satin cased pillow she had done her part to convince him was good for his hair and skin, all the while hugging the one she had slept on and later replaced her own form with when she crept out early that morning. His chest was bare through the black bedding was tugged high to reach the top of his shoulder and shield him from the chill of sleeping alone. His lashes curled and touched the very height of his cheekbones, a crease running along his cheek where he had laid on the pillow wrong, a small gap parting his lips as he breathed in even, deep paces. 

(Y/N) beamed at the sight, her heart thumping in her chest and lungs squeezing as the butterflies in her tummy flew high up. This was a rare sight for her, seeing him asleep. Unless she somehow beat him out and stayed up later than him or managed to wake up before the sun, he was the one that got the view of her sleep-softened form. 

She carefully stepped over the floorboards, aware of Evie skating between her feet and racing her to the bed's edge. While (Y/N) placed the waffle stacked plate on her bedside table (Harry had bought another one soon after he gave her a key to his place, never really saying anything about it other than that she could start leaving some of her stuff there overnight if she wanted), Evie jumped up on the bed and sat close to her dad's face with purrs rumbling through her chest. 

Emulating the kitten, (Y/N) climbed up the bed and sat next to where Harry laid with her legs tucked underneath her. She reached a gentle hand out and brushed Harry's curls from his forehead, fingertips lingering over his skin. "Harry," she crooned, settling a delicate hand on his shoulder, "Harry, wake up." 

A short grunt was all she received in response before he attempted to roll over and smush his face in the pillow that had taken her place in his arms. 

"Harry, no, it's your birthday and I made you breakfast. Wake up, please, H," she tried again, shaking him gently with her grip on his tattooed shoulder. 

Awareness crept into the edges of Harry's features, his breathing breaking the even pace he had curated while his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "(YN)?" he grumbled, voice deep and graveled as he breathed her name.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she whispered, shuffling closer to him with the bedsheets bunching underneath her. She chanced a small kiss to he round of his shoulder, stamping her lips atop the cursive A she now knew represented his mother's initial. 

A lopsided smile plucked at the corner of Harry's lips though he kept his eyes lidded. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, "Is that what's got y'up so early?" 

"Mhm," (Y/N) phummed, absently petting Evie as the kitten made her way to stand on the pillow by Harry's head, her purring growing in volume as she searched for his attention. "I made you breakfast and everything." 

This finally drew a slow blink of Harry's eyes, opening just a crack as he gazed up at her. "You did?" 

An eager nod of her head tossed the stray pieces of hair that fell from her bun into flutter around her face. "I made you waffles with all of your favorite things—but I forgot to grab syrup at the store so I used honey, instead." 

The lopsided curve bloomed into a full smile now as Harry listened to her. Rolling onto his back and effectively displacing Evie from her perch, he stretched his arms high above his head and let the covers fall to his middle. His eyes were sleep hooded even as he fully awoke, laid up in the soft sheets that tumbled closer to his waist the more he moved, allowing the full of his bare chest to be on display. He gazed at her from his spot, lazily dragging his eyes over her form as he noted her borrowed shirt and sleep mussed hair. She felt both exposed and safe under his gaze; he saw everything in her, she could do nothing to hide even a detail, but she also knew he would never love her any less because of anything he found. 

Before (Y/N)'s thumping heart could fly her off the bed, she reached for his breakfast plate and the almost forgotten lighter she had set next to it. Evie scurried to her side now that the food was close, reaching to the top of her tiny toes in an effort to catch a sniff of what she was perceiving as her own meal. 

"Even put a candle in it?" Harry murmured, shuffling to an upright position with his back against the headboard, "You're too sweet, lovebug." 

(Y/N) sang him a quiet happy birthday through a tender smile and flushed cheeks, aware of his gaze on her as she click, click, clicked his lighter to get it to ignite. By the time she finished the short song, her smile had tugged into a frown as she still hadn't been able to get the flame going on the tip of the lighter. A quiet chuckle could be heard from a cross her, Harry's lips in a crooked grin as he reached for her hand. 

"Let me try, baby," he said, warming her hand with his for a lingering second before taking the lighter from her fingers. It took him a single try to ignite the flame before he took it to the wick. 

"Thank you," she peeped, feeling a bit guilty that she ruined his big moment to make a wish and made him do some of the work for his own birthday surprise, "Sorry." 

Harry was quick to shake his head at her mumbled words, "Don't be sorry, nothing wrong with needing a little help. Now, c'mere and be very careful, yeah?" 

He patted his lap with a palm, eyes dropping to the open flame on the waffles as she shuffled over to sit as instructed. Placing his palms on her hips, he helped her with the transition, careful of the plate in her hands as he maneuvered her to sit comfortably atop him. 

"Do you want me to sing again?" (Y/N) murmured once she was situated, her eyes fixed to the wobbling flame. 

A half smile allowed only a single dimple to dent Harry's cheek, a quick shake of his head given in response. "No, baby, y'don't have to. 'M sure m'wish will turn out just fine anyway." 

His gaze lingered over her for a moment as he mentioned his wish, (Y/N)'s skin feeling warm as she noted the path his eyes took down the neckline and slouching shoulder of her borrowed top. Delivering a squeeze to her hips, Harry sucked in a breath before shuttering his eyes and blowing out the slowly shortening candle, the drips of wax falling into a pool of honey (Y/N) was going to need to somehow fish out before Harry took a bite. The doused flame was replaced with the phantom smoke whirling between them. The haze worked as a filter over Harry's features, speared by shards of sunlight breaching the cover of the curtains. 

When he looked like this, she could only describe him as an angel—a miracle. To think this was just the first of his birthdays they would get to enjoy together, with the rest of their lives ahead of them. Just the idea made (Y/N)'s heart hurt and tummy twist into a cocoon for another swarm of butterflies to claim. 

"What did you wish for?" (Y/N) asked, lowering the plate to sit on her lap between them. 

"You know I can't tell you that," Harry nudged her, an amused tilt to his tone, "Nosy girl." 

The corner of her lips tilted in a shy smile, her gaze dropping to the tattoos inked over his collarbones. "Will you tell me if it comes true, then?" 

Her request earned her a kiss on her cheek, the imprint of his lips warming her skin. "I promise, darling," he crooned, his hands on her hips pulsing before joining her gaze on his birthday feast, "Ready to eat with me?" 

"Oh, right," (Y/N) chirped at the reminder, plucking the candle from the waffle to lay on a paper towel she brought along to work as a napkin on the side table. She shifted to climb off of Harry's lap, giving him space, before she was stopped with the grip on her hips. 

"Where do y'think you're going?" 

Brows pinching in the middle, (Y/N) canted her head as she looked to him. "I thought you said you wanted to eat." 

"With you," Harry cemented, ducking his head to be level with her, "So you've got to stay right where y'are." 

"I only brought one fork, though." 

"Didn't know y'were so scared of m'cooties," Harry teased, plucking the utensil from the edge of the plate and cutting into the confection. A perfect bite with a pool of honey in the cube and a half of a raspberry tinting the waffle red was cut away and scooped onto the prongs. His remaining hand on her side squeezed, "Open for me." 

(Y/N) did as told with a flush in her cheeks. Wasn't she supposed to be doting on him today? Since when had her romantic plan of a surprise breakfast in bed devolved into Harry feeding her his birthday surprise? 

He raised his brows as she chewed, cutting off a piece for himself with lazy movements. "Good?" 

Her response came in the form of a hummed mhm, a little too shy to speak in that moment. 

Harry looked a little too pleased with himself as he took his own bite, praises for her simplistic cooking following soon after. He didn't mind sharing half of his breakfast with her, cutting off one bite for her before scooping his own up. He was quiet as they ate, asking her how her morning went without him and if she had any dreams she wanted to share (she'd had one last night where they were driving around aimlessly and Harry wouldn't ask for directions no matter how many times she told him she didn't know how to get to Greenland without an airplane). 

All the while, his attention was very lovingly and liberally served to her in the form of tender eyes and soft smiles. Soft lips kissed away dots of honey that had escaped her mouth and shared the sweetness of the vanilla butter with her in between bites. He was acting as if it were her birthday all over again, no matter the small mentions she made about how he wanted to spend his birthday and if Mitch had anything planned for him that night (the answer was no, as she had learned, Mitch took the wise route of giving Harry a card and a hug last night before going to the apartment for the weekend, leaving he and (Y/N) alone for the next forty-eight hours). 

It was when (Y/N) was rinsing the plate in the kitchen, readying it to be put in the dishwasher while Harry fawned over his bouquet of flowers, that she decided what the rest of the day was going to look like. No matter how hard he tried to squirm out of today, she was going to ensure he had the best birthday ever. 

—————

Harry was officially the king of squirming out of his birthday. All he needed was a crown.

Other than a few phone calls from his family and the boys at the shop, accompanied by texts interspersed through the day, Harry hadn't acknowledged much of his birthday. A friend of his even shared the same birthday and he had called her first and shared his happy wishes for her before he even admitted that yes it was his birthday too, and yes he was having a wonderful day, thank you. 

(Y/N) even managed to take him out (fighting off an afternoon nap especially with the early morning still hanging over her), and no matter which shop or boutique they went to, Harry managed to find something he told her made him think of her and that she should have. She turned down every proposition, but still, it made her nervous she wasn't putting enough emphasis on him. Even when she took him to an art supply store that she had no business being in given the state of the stick figures she doodled in Harry's sketchbook, hard pressed to get him something he could use—even if it was for work—he still managed to find a carton of colored pencils filled with exclusively pink and rose shades that he told her she could keep at the shop and play around with when she was waiting on him on his late paperwork nights. 

"Harry," she finally whined when they were huddled in the back of a record store, Harry on a mission to find a colored pressing of one of her favorite albums they could play tonight on his record player, "Stop." 

Halting in his tracks, Harry's hand still wrapped in hers, he looked at her with raised brows over the dark sunglasses he hadn't bothered to pull from his face in favor of keeping his hand in hers. "What?" 

"Today's supposed to be about you," she said, somewhat petulantly, fighting the pout that threatened the stern set in her features, "Why are you trying to do all of this stuff for me?" 

(Y/N) could already picture the intensity of his green eyes under the shades as he pursed his lips, the very edges of his brows shaping into a pinch she could see around the frames. "I know," he started, "That's why I was doing all of this."

The first crack in her firm facade came in the form of knitted brows as she gazed up at him, feeling the urge to nervously pick at her nails, a habit Harry was working with her to break so she didn't constantly mess with her manicures. "What?"

An easy smile spread on Harry face, his attention falling back to the cartons and cartons of records stacked around them, fingers thumbing through the alphabetized categories. "When we left, y'said it was m'birthday so we were doing whatever I wanted—whatever made me happy right?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head quietly beside him, following along to whatever aisle he wandered down. 

"I like taking care of you, love, you know that," he said simply, flexing his fingers between hers, "So, doing all these little things for you make me happy. Whenever you're happy, I am, too. That's all 'm trying to do today." 

"But," (Y/N) sputtered, unsure how to get around his logic, "W-We're going to your favorite places; you're supposed to find things you like so I can buy them for you." 

Harry gave her simple nod, sliding out a record that she'd been searching for since it went out of stock online months ago. She tried her best to hide the perk in her demeanor when she saw the cover, the blue tinted silver shining in the light. She knew she failed when he tucked the vinyl under his other arm. 

"I am finding stuff I like, but 'm having more fun this way. Everywhere we go is m'favorite place when 'm with you." 

With her resolve now paper thin, (Y/N) used what was left of her conviction, "I don't know, H. Are you sure?" 

That caused a small pause in his walk. He turned to look at her, finally pushing his sunglasses to sit atop is head and push back his curls like a headband. "Trust me, baby, yeah? 'M very sure about this." 

Her eyes flicked to the record under his arm. "Promise?" 

A tender smile tugged at his lips, the curve going lopsided with only a single dimple denting into his cheek. "I promise." 

(Y/N) let out a small okay next to him, her smile facing the ground as she laid her attention at their feet. Whether or not this was another ploy to squirm out of his birthday, she had to trust him, right? 

Besides, she still had the flowers she left him at home and the dinner she had planned for tonight. And, her agenda for after dinner she hoped went on without a hitch. 

So, she'd let him walk her around a record store, picking out things he knew she liked when she knew there was still another present waiting for him at home.

—————

"First y'make me breakfast, then I see y'brought me flowers, and now you're getting dinner delivered? Darling, I think 'm in love with you." 

Harry's words were stamped on the back of (Y/N)'s neck as she hung up the phone with Little House, their favorite Chinese takeaway spot and the choice of tradition for any special occasion between them. He'd come back from changing in his bedroom to find her on the phone, ordering their dinner when he had rounded behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle in a loose hug as she spoke. She was still fairly anxious when it came to making calls like that, always worried she'd order the wrong thing or mess up her words and hear a snicker on the other end (she knew those were silly little fears that meant next to nothing, but they still poked and prodded at her from the back of her mind), especially since Harry usually took on the responsibility of ordering for them like that, so his presence was more than comforting. His declaration of love after pressing the red button to end the call was like her reward for her troubles. 

"I love you, too, H," she murmured, voice soft as she laid her arms over his and squeezed herself against his chest, "I know today hasn't been the most exciting birthday, but I really hope you've had a good time." 

His smile could be felt in the crook of her neck as Harry shifted his hold on her to grab at the soft of her waist. (Y/N) allowed herself to be pulled wherever Harry wanted her, staying pliant as she was turned to face him with her arms and phone tucked between their chests. His smile was tender as he gazed down at her, the softness of the curve rivaled only by the cushy moss coloring of his eyes. His hands were splayed over the small of her back, pinkies dipping into the dimples at the bottom of her spine. 

"This is the best birthday I've ever had, you know that," he cooed, "I love jus' being with you. I don't need loads of presents or parties or whatever y'think I need, I jus' want to spend time with you. And, I think 's special enough that y'didn't nap today and instead watched that entire documentary with me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help herself but fall into his chest, tucking her head under his chin and face in his neck. Though this was how they'd spent most of the afternoon, tangled together on the couch with whatever show or movie Harry wanted to watch playing on the television, it hadn't gotten old. The feel of his hands warming her back and the tickle of his curls brushing her nose was more than comforting, all the while being encompassed in his scent. As much as today was about him, this was definitely something she considered a gift. 

"That was pretty hard, I can't lie," (Y/N) mumbled, a small smile forming on her lips as she spoke. It really was the truth, anyway; it had been Harry who had pointed out how sleepy she became no matter what film or program was put on the T.V. after spending the morning with him, her being the first to fall asleep between the two without fail, even when she promised she'd watch the whole thing.

A lopsided smile curved over his features, a single dimple denting into his cheek as his tender gaze traced her face. "'M sure it was, baby," he crooned, "'M proud of y'for sticking through it." 

Wiggling her arms out from between them, (Y/N) disregarded her phone on the counter beside them before placing her hands on either side of Harry's jaw, cupping the sharp line in her palms. Her fingertips inched into the very edge of his hairline, his curls loose and grazing his collarbones. 

This was the longest she had ever seen his hair, and she loved it. The silken curls were her favorite things to play with anyway, especially when it was Harry who was having a hard time getting to sleep, and the added length made it all that much more enticing to run her fingers through. 

That was why she couldn't help herself before moving one of her hands from his jaw, brushing her fingers through the strands and tucking them out of his face. She curled his hair behind his ear, allowing the low light glowing through the kitchen to dance over the side of his face and touch the dark ink etched into his neck. She could feel his eyes on her as she indulged herself and glazed her eyes over the planes of his face and the highpoints of his features. When her eyes trailed over his neck, it was the blank spots that had stood out to her the most compared to the black ink she was so familiar with.

He had told her once, late at night when he was talking her to sleep after they'd watched a scary movie, that he'd been wanting to get a tattoo dedicated to her. A pair of tiny angel wings he'd had in mind, the design small enough to fit somewhere on his chest or even his neck, he'd said. Now, whenever she thought to look, (Y/N) found herself pursuing the blank patches of skin that she might find one day filled with angel wings that she'd know were just for her. 

"What are y'thinking about, baby?" 

The sound of his voice and the bob of his Adam's apple in Harry's throat pulled (Y/N)'s attention back to his face. She shook her head, a shy smile on her lips at being caught despite the fact she had so blatantly looked him over. "Nothing." 

In true Harry fashion, he delicately pried as he dipped his head and nudged his nose against hers. "You've gotta tell me now, darling. Can't keep secrets when y'smile like that, 's not fair." 

The hand that she had brushed his hair back with, dropped to trace a cautious fingertip over the cords of his neck down to the neckline of his top, very aware of the warmth of his skin and his eyes that documented her every move. "It was just..." she trailed off, unsure of her own words, "Remember that time you said you wanted to get a tattoo for me? The angel wings and all?"

A slowly curling smile took home on Harry's lips. "Mhm." 

"I was just looking, that's all. Seeing if anything changed." 

"You're just checking, I see," Harry mused, ducking his head again to be eye level with her, the green of his gaze outlined by smudges of inky-black liner, "That would be a fun birthday present, don't you think? I could even have you be the one to give it to me. Would never forget something like that." 

(Y/N) practically blanched at the idea of being the one to hold the tattoo gun to his skin. She'd never have steady enough hands, that was for sure. "I couldn't—I don't think—" 

A teasing pout took over his features, "Y'wouldn't want to do that for me? Give me something special to have with me all the time that reminded me of you?" 

When he put it like that, (Y/N) could almost forgive the jagged lines she would no doubt make. Almost. "Harry..." 

He grabbed at her hand that had fallen to his chest, fingers wrapping around her wrist before he tugged it towards his neck again. From memory, he picked a blank inch of space along the column of his throat, the patch of skin left free between the twisting vines of the rosebush that colored his chest. "Not even if I asked y'to put it here? So everyone would see it? So everyone would know that I've got a pretty angel waiting for me at home. I'd even let y'do them in pink, if y'wanted." 

Her mouth had gone dry as Harry talked. He was so good at things like this, easing her and showing her what those kind of things would mean to him, even if she was scared at first. He was the best at talking to her, soothing the biting fears and anxieties that typically followed her. 

Maybe she wouldn't be so bad, (Y/N) pondered. If she was super careful and remembered to breathe, her hand could steady out and Harry might possibly be left with a petite pair of angel wings drawn by her hand that he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

When she didn't answer, Harry kept on, his eyes drawing over her features in tender runs, "Could do what we did for yours: wait for the shop to close so it'd be just the two of us. Could have you sit on m'lap, and I'd tell y'how to do everything, baby. I know you'd be so careful and good for me. I know you'd make it pretty for me, wouldn't you?"

(Y/N) floundered for a response, feeling her eyelids sink low over her eyes, lashes creating a flattering vignette around the vision of Harry. He knew exactly what he was doing, holding her so close she could feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest before she heard him with her ears. 

It was the picture of her sat astride his lap, Harry laying underneath her on one of the tattoo chairs in the private rooms that made her lungs squeeze the hardest. If she allowed herself to creep towards the back of her mind, in this vision, there was no tattoo gun involved. Even less so, were clothes needed in this mirage. She wouldn't need much of a steady hand with Harry gripping her hips and helping her bounce up and down atop him, the only breathing she'd need to focus on would be to suck in enough air to tell him she loved him between the sinking of her hips. 

Kissing the side of her distracted mouth, Harry mumbled against the skin through a smile. "Now, what are y'think—" 

The doorbell rang just before he had a chance to finish his thought. Dinner was here.

A breath she hadn't been aware was stuck in her throat finally worked its way out when Harry drew away. His eyes were still the bright green she was in love with, but there was something lingering in them that she knew a little to well and recognized in the dark of his bedroom. If they kept this up, the birthday present she had been gearing up for was going to be rushed to be shared on the couch. 

"I should get that," (Y/N) mumbled, the words rolling off her dry tongue though she didn't make a move to leave his arms.

"Probably," Harry mused, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Or, I can get it. Y'look a little flustered, baby, might be best if I go answer the door, hm?" 

She knew he was teasing her, the slight lilt to his tone all the evidence she needed. Still, even as her cheeks heated and eyes grew a fraction wider at his words, she liked it. She liked it when Harry played these little games with her; when it was just the two of them and he used that voice on her. 

"Okay." 

Harry's lazy smile transformed into a full grin at her response. His arms around her waist dropped as he stepped away from her. "Go wait in the living room for me, yeah? I'll be back in just a second, baby." 

He left her after patting at her bottom, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. She watched his retreating form, tattooed shoulders stretching the white tatters of his vintage Rolling Stone's t-shirt his mom had sent as a present. The fabric, worn and old, allowed for the stretch and lean of his muscles to be seen through it, each of his movements highlighted by his tattoos.

At this point, (Y/N) wasn't sure if this gift she had planned tonight was more for him or for her. 

—————

(Y/N) watched from the corner of her eye as Harry sunk further into the couch cushion, his eyes drooping in the light of the T.V.. He held a contented smile on his features as he pulsed the arm he had slung around her shoulders. Their Chinese take away was still spread over the coffee table, having finished with the containers over an hour ago though neither of them had the motivation to put the leftovers away for the night. 

She tried to be discreet in the way she allowed her gaze to trace over the lines of his form. Soft lighting from the kitchen seeped into the living room allowing for Harry to be backlit, his profile standing out against the light. His lashes held a gentle curve, the tips fluttering against his brow bone and resting on his cheekbone every time he blinked. The straight angle of his nose allowed for the perfect slope that directed (Y/N)'s eyes to the hills and valleys of his Cupid's bow. Of course, what caught her eye the most, were the pillows of his lips that she knew like the back of her hand. Even with the lack of light draining some of the color from his features, she knew she could pinpoint the exact shade of raspberry pink that tinted his lips. 

Looking at him now, her heart squeezed when she remembered this was just the first of his birthdays they were spending together. She was going to have the rest of her life to see him grow and change and add to the person she loved.

Moving her gaze from his face, she was more than thankful for the tatters of his Rolling Stone's t-shirt as the holes and gashes in the fabric allowed for peeks at his inked torso. The way he was stretched out, legs spread wide, taking up space next to her with the length of his arm thrown over her shoulders, made the lean muscles in his torso ripple and stretch in a reminder of how strong he was—and how gently he conducted himself with her despite that. His tattoos were dark underneath the fabric, enhancing the shadows already blanketing the view of him. Even without the clear strength he displayed and the lean gracefulness that only came from someone who had grown to love the body they were in, the art inked on his skin was enough for (Y/N) to argue that photographs of him should be hung in the Lourve. Maybe even a statue of him to replace Michelangelo's David would suffice. 

Harry adjusted his position on the cushion, a sliver of his abdomen visible as he moved from one of the holes in his shirt. (Y/N) watched as the muscles contracted and shifted under the ink on his skin, ticking a fond memory (or should she say memories) of the just a couple of nights ago when he had her sat astride his lap and he bucked his hips up into her, abdomen flexing and straining as he bounced her on his hips. She swallowed at the thought, daring to allow her train of thought to drift towards what she was hoping he wasn't too tired for tonight. Just like he had done for her birthday those months back, she had something special in mind for tonight. 

(Y/N) hadn't even realized she'd been caught staring—since when had she allowed herself to shift towards him, straying away from the sly sideways glancing she had began with?—until Harry's lips curved into a smile and she heard he gentle rumbling of his voice. "What are y'looking at, baby? Have I got something on m'face?" 

He knew exactly what he was doing, that lilt returning to his voice that spurred a blaze to ignite behind (Y/N)'s cheeks. When he made a lazy roll of his neck, finally looking to her with that lopsided smile on his mouth, she felt her heart skip a beat. So what if he was teasing her and caught her staring? He knew what he looked like, so there's no way he could blame her. 

"No," she peeped, answering the latter question. Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shuffled closer to his side, feeling the heat of his gaze on her face. "I was just wondering if you were tired already," she explained, a very short and clean version of where her thoughts really had landed as she gazed at him. 

Harry's arm around her shoulders flexed, his palm spanning her upper arm with tattooed fingers denting the soft skin. "'M not tired, no," he started, something sly added to the curl of his lips, "Why?" 

(Y/N) shook her head, lips tight as she fought the urge to settle herself against his chest and slant her mouth over his. As much as Harry brought her out of her shell, this territory was still something she allowed him to take the lead on and was harder for her to express her wants and desires as freely as he did. 

But, she figured with that she had planned for tonight, that wouldn't much matter with what she was going to propose to Harry.

"Just wondering," she settled on, picking at her nails that had fallen in her lap.

A dark brow raised over his eyes, a knowing look shaping his features. "Are you tired?"  

This time the shake of her head was immediate and rushed. She was definitely, definitely not tired. 

"Look at you," Harry smiled, taking the initiative to swing his opposing arm around to land on the thick of her thigh before tugging her to him. He curled around her form, ducking his head to catch her gaze. "Two movies together and y'didn't fall asleep during either one. 'M proud of you, lovebug." 

Unable to stop the grin that plucked at the corners of her lips, (Y/N) allowed the smile to stretch over her face. She loved it when he talked to her like that, hearing that he was proud of her, even if its over something silly like staying awake during movies. 

(Y/N) glanced at him through the cover of her lashes. "I didn't want to miss any of your birthday, that's all," she peeped, voice a secret between the two of them. 

Harry hummed at her words, eyes flitting over her features in teasing draws over the planes. "We've still got a few hours left, don't we? Any ideas on how to spend them, since y'don't want to miss anything?" 

As if he didn't already have a plan. (Y/N) knew better, knew he had something cooking up with that inky gleam in his eyes. 

Still, (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth, dropping her gaze to his tattooed arms, the designs sinking under the sleeve of his top though the lines of his muscles were easy to follow. "I had a couple of ideas, maybe." 

The lopsided grin on his lips widened. "And what were those ideas, love?" 

She felt like a guppy now at his prompting, unsure of how exactly she wanted to phrase what she had planned for the night. Sure, he had done a stellar job of pulling her further and further out of her shell since they'd met, but this was... different. Different than anything she'd asked of him before. 

This whole idea came to her on accident, really. Months ago, she'd come by the shop to drop off Harry's lunch, him having forgotten the bag in the kitchen when he'd left that morning. It was supposed to be nothing more than a couple of minutes, in and out before she headed off to class after sharing a couple of kisses in his office. But, when she had walked in, finding the front room vacated with voices drifting through from Harry's office, she overheard something that made her pause. 

It was no secret Harry was the more experienced out of the two of them, but it definitely wasn't something they regularly discussed—if at all. But, walking into the tattoo parlor she overheard one of the boys (she was about ninety percent sure it was Niall, which didn't surprise her) teasing Harry about how he apparently only "made love" now, gone were the days of his raucous shenanigans and explicit flings. She had crept down the hallway, listening as their words floated out through the small crack left between the door and the jamb of his office. She heard as Harry brushed off their teasing, telling them to leave him alone. It seemed his protesting had only spurred them on, (Y/N) listening as she heard them start again, asking Harry if he remembered back in the day when he was the first to share whatever wild escapades had taken place the night before with details to spare. 

She'd known he'd gotten into some trouble before her, and more than likely toned down a lot of the kind of things he enjoyed before her, but it was different hearing it this way. Harry was always very adamant about how much he loved the things they did together, that he didn't want for anything when he had her kiss on his lips and her pretty body in his arms. Even then, he didn't play into their teasing, only offering half-hearted grumbles and requests for his friends to shut the fuck up, but (Y/N) felt like she was finally hearing about a side of her Harry she'd never learned about before. 

For a split second, the idea that he had these experiences with others before her inspired a lick of insecurity tinted with jealousy before the pit was quickly filled and a different set of ideas replacing that worry. She had all the time in the world to redraw those memories of his, putting herself in place of those previous girls. That was how he figured his birthday might be the best time to put some of those ideas into action. 

Harry nudged his nose against hers, the tip grazing her cheek as he awaited a response. "Y'can tell me, baby. 'S jus' me." 

"Well, um," she stuttered, taking advantage of the lack of eye contact as he buried his face in her neck, "I just... When we go to your room, I want tonight to be all about you. I want to do whatever you want—however r-rough you want to be, I'll do it." 

Once that stuttered word left her mouth, her request for him to be rough, she felt Harry tense. The teasing shapes he was drawing on the curve of her neck with the tip of his nose and the brushes of his lips against the delicate skin halted in less than a second. 

Maybe this wasn't the right thing to ask. 

Pulling back from the home he made in her neck, Harry's eyes were clear and unrelenting as they matched hers. "Y'want me to be rough with you?" 

Swallowing, (Y/N) found her mouth dry now that she had an unobstructed view of his reaction. "I-I want to do whatever you like, in-including being rough if that's what you want." 

Long, slow moments passed where (Y/N) felt more than a little vulnerable under his gaze. The mossy coloring of his irises decreased until it was nothing more than a thin ring around his pupils. The longer he looked at her, she noticed the way something smug lingered on the edge of his lips though he tried to bite it back with the blunt of his teeth. 

Touching his forehead to hers, Harry closed the space between them tight enough to leave just the tip of his nose nudging hers though not near enough to close the gap between their lips. "That's not what I asked you, baby, you know that. I wanted to know if you wanted me to be rough. Don't care if it's something y'think I want, I want to know what you want." 

His eyes were clear and piercing as they met hers, cutting out any chance for her to shy away or find anything other than his attention to concentrate on. His hands were still softly cradling her form, an arm around her shoulder to anchor her while the other hand cupped the soft of her thigh, fingers edging towards her bottom—gentle, like he always was with her. 

With Harry's words floating around in her head, (Y/N) pictured what it would be like for those gentle hands on her body to shift. For his hands to change the way they guided her. The gentle pressing of his fingertips on her thigh could become bruising dents into the soft of her form. The weight of his body pinning her to the mattress under him, keeping her just where he wanted. His hips driving between hers, knocking the breath out of her before she could even gasp his name. All the while, he could still picture Harry kissing her gently, telling her how beautiful she was even as she was ruined. 

Focusing her attention back on the man that was currently starring in her fantasies, (Y/N) realized she hadn't been very discreet in her imaginings. The corner of his lips were upturned in the slightest, his hooded eyes seeming entirely too smug around the ink of his blown pupil. 

"I think it could be... nice," (Y/N) settled on, her words nothing more than a peep between them. 

Harry's lips bloomed into a smile at her word choice. "Nice? Y'think me being rough with you, showing y'exactly how I want you and letting me do anything I want, would be nice?" 

He was teasing her. As expected, a fluttering of butterflies and bumblebees made way through her tummy, knocking against her ribs and punching at the soft tissue of her middle. But, what wasn't normal, was the extra clench of her muscles at the tone he used, the cloying, gently mocking tone that swathed his words and made her thighs clench and insides pulse. 

Maybe it was the butterflies in her tummy or the way he was looking at her so intensely with a teasing shimmer in his eyes, but (Y/N) felt breathless as she spoke. "I-I think so, yeah." 

(Y/N) watched as Harry sucked in a deep breath, his eyes clear and attentive as he gazed as her. Before she could react, his hand that had been settled on her thigh reached up and grabbed at her chin, pinching the curve between his thumb and forefinger as he tipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. 

Gentle as he always was, Harry guided her through the contact, tucking her bottom lip between his two. He sucked on the full of her lip sweetly, the tip of his tongue tasting the swipe of raspberry lip treatment she had applied to her mouth after dinner. It wasn't the kiss she had expected given the circumstances of their conversation, but it wasn't one she was going to complain about. 

That is until Harry's hand on her chin shifted, working over the line of her jaw before finding its way through her hair. His fingers sifted through the strands before he made a sharp fist on the back of her head, hair included. Her head snapped back, baring her neck as her pulse picked up under the delicate skin. A gasp fell from her mouth, the change in his hold more startling than anything painful. 

"Was that nice like y'were thinking?" 

Despite the lightly mocking edge to his words, (Y/N) couldn't help but flutter her eyes closed and nod her head as best she could with a fist in her hair. The brush of Harry's lips against hers that she earned was nothing more than a tease before he pulled away after a breath. Only their breathing could be heard as (Y/N) tried to find her mind, Harry's hand lingering heavily in her hair. He made slow work of unfurling his fingers and allowing the strands to slip back into place. 

"I think," he breathed, dotting a kiss on her chin before the point was plucked between his thumb and forefinger, "we need to talk about a couple of things before we keep going. That alright, angel?" 

Blinking her eyes open, she allowed her chin to level and get a look at her Harry. There was something different in his gaze as he swept it over her features. The green of his eyes was almost completely eradicated around the inky black of his blown pupil, a spark lingering behind them that she'd never seen before. 

Was this the guy the boys had talked about? Was this who existed before she walked into his life?

"Hm, baby?" he prompted her, thumb tapping against her chin through the hold he had on her.

"Y-Yeah," she stuttered, "We can talk." 

A sweet smile bloomed on his features the longer he looked at her, his grip on her chin loosening to a caress before he planted a soft kiss on her lips. "You're s'good, angel." 

She smiled into the contact, comforted by the reappearance of her safe place. "Thank you." 

A breathy laugh was exhaled through Harry's nose as his eyes practically turned into hearts while looking at her. He ran his thumb over the full of her bottom lip, pressing into the pad before whispering for her to c'mon, then, lovebug.

With their fingers laced together, the towed her behind him to his bedroom. As much as it broke her heart, (Y/N) closed the door behind them, effectively cutting off Evie from racing over the threshold and joining in on the cuddling she was expecting. Silence covered the bedroom as Harry tugged her to the bed, sitting himself down first before placing her on his lap. 

(Y/N) settled herself with thighs on either side of his hips, arms wrapping around his neck while Harry's steadied her around her waist. While he was still very clearly wrapped up in what they started out in the living room (the bulge sitting right underneath her was enough evidence), she still couldn't help herself from fawning over him. No matter how blown his pupils were and what the night's agenda held, he was still the most gentle, handsome man she'd ever met and that made her heart beat harder than anything. 

"Hi," she smiled, playing with the ringlets of curls falling over his shoulders. 

His smile was sweet as he gazed up at her. "Hi, baby." 

She couldn't help but hug herself to him at the sound of his affection, tucking herself into his neck with her chest pressed into his. Harry reciprocated her hold just as tightly, fingers braiding behind her back with his chin on her shoulder. 

"Still feeling good about your idea for tonight?" Harry cooed in her ear. 

Sitting in his arms, she got to feel the strength she had been admiring before. Corded muscles cuddled her close to the planes of his chest, blocks of abs pushing against the soft of her own body. She didn't know what he was going to do with his body, with the span of his hands that held her waist or the cradle of his thighs under her body, but she knew that he wouldn't do anything he didn't think she would enjoy or make her feel unsafe. 

"I am, yeah," she affirmed, nodding her head with a smushed cheek against his shoulder. 

"M'brave girl," he praised her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before drawing away and urging her to pull back. "I've got something new I want to do with you tonight, then, too." 

"Okay," she nodded, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth as she fought to maintain the eye contact she knew he was looking for. 

He shifted his hold on her, his forearm still barred around her back while his other hand pet at her waist in gentle runs. "Have y'ever heard of a safe word before?" 

Her response was a simple shake of her head. If Harry hadn't taught it to her, chances are, she'd never heard of it or understood what it meant if she had. 

Nodding his head, (Y/N) watched as the curls huddled over his shoulders. "Since y'want to do some rougher things with me tonight, I think we should have a safe word or try out a color system," he continued, voice soft between the two of them, "'S jus' something for both of us, to make sure we both feel comfortable and safe. If either of us say our safeword, then everything stops. We go back to cuddling and loving on one another, no matter what we were doing before. Y'can tell me to stop still, no matter what and I'll listen, but this can jus' be something else we have that we can use. " 

(Y/N) listened intently to his explanation, nodding her head as he finished though she wasn't completely clear on all the details. "What's a color system?" 

Harry rolled the question around in his head, tilting his head as if wracking his brain for the right answer. "'S like a stoplight, kind of. There's green, letting each other know we both feel good and that we can keep going. There's yellow, which means we need to slow down, that we still want to keep going but need a breather. And there's red, which is the same as saying stop. No questions or anything, jus' a complete stop and we start treating each other gently again." 

"Oh, okay." The idea sounded simple enough, (Y/N) figured. She liked the idea that if H didn't like something they ended up doing tonight, that he could ask her to stop or slow down. And, she could ask for a breather if need be, though she couldn't imagine Harry doing anything that would push her too far to step out of green territory.

The edges of Harry's lips fought to curve into a smile as she gazed at her. "Yeah? Do you like that idea?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, a nod of her head accompanying the sound, "I like the colors." 

His hand on her waist slid up the curve of her side before landing on the ladder of her ribs. "What's your color right now, then, love?" 

She didn't even have to think before he bounced in his lap (a move that had Harry's thighs tense and grip pulse), "Green—I'm green."

"Me too, baby," he mused before craning his neck and pressing his lips to her, falling back on the mattress and taking her with him, "I'm going to be checking in on you a few times tonight, okay? Whenever we do something new, I want to know your color and make sure you're okay." 

"Okay," she whispered against his kiss, her arms around his neck tightening with the curls tickling the insides, "And you'll tell me if you're not green anymore?" 

(Y/N) felt his smile more than she saw it as he nudged his nose against hers, "I will, angel. I promise." 

Catching her lips in a kiss, Harry took his time working her into the dreamy state she had been in out in the living room, helping her find her pliant state with his tongue in her mouth and hands on her waist. (Y/N) followed after him, lips parted and allowing sweeps of his tongue to run through her mouth with sucks of her bottom lip into his mouth, her chest pressed to his as she breathed in deep runs when she had the chance. 

Her knees were braced on either side of his hips when Harry adjusted his hold and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hang on," he murmured against her kiss before tightening his grip and rolling them over to end with him on top. 

Careful to keep the full brunt of his weight from sinking into her, Harry allowed himself to lean into her form, pining her to the mattress. His mouth on hers slowed to gentle kisses, only the tip of his tongue running along the seam of her lips as he seemingly waited for any change in her response to the heavy handed contact. The only one garnered came in the form of her arms around his neck shifting to allow her fingers to sift through the curls of his hair. 

This what what she had been imagining, she thought as she sighed into the contact; he was being as gentle as ever, kissing her sweetly and reminding her how loved she was by him, with the breath-stealing weight of his body pinning her down to ensure he got to keep doing as he pleased for as long as he felt. She hadn't been thinking when she bucked her hips upwards when she felt his arms looped around her waist tighten and draw an arch into her back. 

A hum rumbled through his chest, her core having pressed right against the ridge of his cock. His kissing turned a touch harsher, something punishing lingering on the outskirts of the contact as he smeared his mouth over her own before pulling away. The heat of his breathing was felt against her skin as he stayed close enough to touch the tip of his nose to hers. "Be good, baby," he told her, his arms around her waist shifting to cup the bones of her hips in his palms, "Stay still and let me take care of y'like y'promised you'd let me." 

Her breathing hitched at his words, the measured pacing she had started with now coming out in a huffed pant through squeezed lungs. "Okay, sorry," she squeaked.

"Don't be sorry," he hummed, nudging her face to the side with the help of his nose, "Jus' be good like I know y'are, yeah?" 

While Harry kissed down the planes of her face, following the line of her jaw before planting a garden of kisses along the curve of her throat, (Y/N) tried to find her head. She'd lost it the second Harry wrapped her hair in his fist on the couch and it seemed to only run farther and farther away every time the stern tone of his voice rang through her head. Velvet covered steel, she thought, affection carrying the words out of his mouth though he made sure to let her know she was going to be sticking to her word of letting him call every single shot for the night. 

It was Harry this time that ground their hips together, his cock pushing against her legging covered core. (Y/N) did her best to keep from reciprocating the strokes of his hips, her thighs tensing on either side of him with her hands in his hair tightening as if to work out that energy that called for her to ask for more from him. 

"Feel me, love?" he murmured, his teeth scraping at the ledge of her collarbone as he dug his hips harder into her softness. 

"Uh-huh," she keened, her mouth falling into a gape with her cheek smushed against the soft of his pillow under her head. 

"So hard for y'already, angel. That's what happens when you're good for me." He praised her as he drew away from the column of her throat. One of his hands abandoned station on her hip, his palm cradling her cheek as he nudged her to face him. His hand still on her cheek, he pet his thumb over the height of her cheekbone, "Ready to give me more?"

He gazed down at her with eyes that reminded her of the tone of his voice: stern steel and velveteen affection. His lips were slicked with spit and shone in the limited light offered by the lamp on the night stand before he trapped the bottom one between his teeth, gaze shifting to where she could feel the imprint of his kiss on her neck. 

Her response came out as an absent hum of confirmation, the noise vibrating through her throat where she could still feel the ghost of his warmth working over the skin. A short smile made its way over his mouth, molding his features into something soft before dotting a kiss on her cheek. He shifted over her, drawing away and leaving her to face the chill without his body covering hers. 

"C'mere, lovebug," he crooned, tugging her along with him until he was sat at the edge of the mattress with (Y/N) following. He pinned his gaze on her as she kneed over the fluff of the duvet, stopping her before she could get too comfortable. Reaching for a pillow that bordered the headboard, he said, "Why don't y'get on your knees for me, baby." 

(Y/N) watched as he placed the pillow on the floor, filling the space between his legs that was left as he spread them open to allow her to kneel between. She swallowed, following his tender-toned instructions as she climbed off the bed and sat back on her heels, knees cushioned by the pillow. With her bottom lip trapped between the blunt of her teeth, (Y/N) gazed up at Harry from where she sat, her skin heating when she found his eyes already pinned to her. 

He towered over her from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands spanning the thick of his thighs, black nails gleaming like the matching hoops pierced through his lip and nose. 

"Comfortable, love?" he crooned to her, reaching out and passing his fingers through the baby-fine hairs that fell over her forehead. 

"Mhm," she smiled, leaning into his hand, "Thank you for the pillow."

The edges of his lips curled into a softened smile, his hand settling into a cradle on her cheek. "Of course, baby. 'M going to be a little rough tonight, not mean." 

(Y/N) turned her head in his hand, lips level with the warmth of his palm where she pressed a kiss to the center. The ink of Harry's pupils, though still harboring a heat that was going to take some effort on (Y/N)'s part to extinguish, practically turned to rounded hearts as he gazed down at her. She watched through the frame of her lashes as he curled over, his other hand abandoning his thigh and settling along the line of her jaw.

"Give me a kiss, angel," he cooed to her, bending down far enough that his hair haloed around then with her face cupped between his palms. 

It didn't take much of a thought before (Y/N) complied with his request, bouncing on her heels. She earned a breathy laugh from Harry was fanned over her skin before he sealed his mouth over hers in a soft kiss. He parted her lips gently with his own, allowing her only a taste of his tongue before he was drawing away once again, thumbs petting at her cheekbones. 

"M'angel girl," he murmured before kissing at the corner of her mouth. He unfurled himself from around her, sitting with his hips at the edge of the mattress and his gaze pinned on his love. He only dropped her eyes when he began messing with the fastenings on his pants, fingers working right at (Y/N)'s eye level. 

Watching intently, (Y/N) felt her breathing shift. The air in her lungs suddenly felt heavy as she followed the track his fingers were tracing until the glimpse of white boxers she'd seen before turned into a full-fledged show as he parted his fly and left it gaping. The outline of his cock was clear as day through the straining fabric, precum just beginning to seep out and thin the opacity of his underwear. 

"Understand, angel?"

(Y/N) watched as Harry's hands stopped working, the black on his nails glimmering in the glowing light from the lamp. His tone was deep and graveled as it caught her attention, (Y/N) realizing her hadn't heard a single word of what she was supposed to be understanding. 

"W-What?" she stuttered, looking up at Harry with her eyes rounding out from the hard edges that shaped his features. 

He canted his head as he looked at her, the edges of his lips fighting off a tilt. "Y'weren't listening to me, baby?" 

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a beat, eyes falling from his matching gaze back down to his lap in a fleeting sweep. "I was distracted," she peeped, "Sorry." 

Shaking his head, Harry took her face between his hands, barring her from looking anywhere but himself as he curled forward once more. "Remember what I said? Don't have to be sorry, love, jus' be good. Okay?" 

"Okay," she repeated through puffed lips, nodding her head as best she could in his hold.

Harry indulged himself in a short kiss to her lips before he resumed his position and worked his pants down his hips, budging up until the material sat at the mid of his thighs. "Was telling y'that I want y'to remember that 'm being rough tonight, but not mean to you. We're gonna try something a little different this time, and I want y'to tell me if y'want to stop. Since y'won't have much room to speak, our colors aren't going to work. But, what y'can do for me, is tap my leg three times, and that's how I'll know y'want to stop. Do y'understand this time, angel?" 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) willed herself to look away from the tented fabric of his boxers. "Y-Yeah, I do, Harry," she said, nodding her head. It took effort for her to look away from the way his cock jumped as her voice wrapped around his name. 

Breathing stilted but the smug curve of his lips remained as Harry looked down at her with affectionate approval floating in his eyes. "Good girl," he praised. 

Shuffling on her knees, (Y/N) couldn't help herself but draw closer when she saw his hand settle on the waistband of his underwear. Harry's breathy laugh of so eager, falling on deaf ears as she watched the way his fingers curled into the stitched band and tugged and tugged until his boxers joined his pants at the midpoint of his thighs. 

Watching his cock bob against his tattooed stomach, (Y/N) felt just as she did the first time she got on her knees for him. Though his tattoos continued down under his bellybutton, clusters of flora that matched the rosegarden of his chest piece, she always thought the laurels etched into his hips—a pair he had gotten long before he decided to cover his skin—acted as the perfect frame for him in moments like these. The ruddy head stood out starkly against the black ink, the veined underside on display as he further widened his legs for (Y/N) to take her place between before she reached for his pants and tugged them off the rest of the way, leaving him in only the tatters of his Rolling Stones top.

Just as he always did since the first time he had her like this, Harry wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, giving her a show as he stroked over his length in slow runs. (Y/N) knew that if she had it in her to tear her eyes away from the sight of his tattooed hand jerking over his cock, she would find Harry with a smug smile his lips, moments away from teasing her over her rapt attention. 

"C'mere, angel," Harry murmured to her, his hand still stroking with his thumb running over the tip. 

(Y/N) worked on autopilot, shuffling closer to him, tattooed thighs on either side of her head with the slick sounds of his hand running over his cock filling her ears. Her breathing came out in shaky exhales, a blurt of precum bubbling at Harry's tip once she was close enough for the air to fan over the heated skin. 

"Open for me," he directed, voice low and strong. 

Tongue out, (Y/N) opened her mouth, finally sparing a glance to Harry's face from where he sat above her. His cheeks were now flushed, the tip of his tongue pressed into the hoop of his lip ring, the metal bobbing. He looked down at her, attention pinned to the way she heeded his commands as soon as they fell from his lips. Once he caught her eyes on him, the very corners of his lips turned upward in a small smile, her eyes rounded out and mooning up at him with her mouth open just for him. 

"'Member what I told you?" he asked, pressing the tip of his prick into the flat of her tongue, a pearl of precum dragging across the buds in a tease, "'Bout telling me if y'need to stop?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head as best she could without disrupting Harry as he stroked himself over her tongue. She watched as he shook his head, the curtain of his hair swaying at the motion. 

"No," he settled, "Need to hear y'say it." 

He backed off just enough to not allow her the excuse of pleasuring him to stop her from answering him how he wanted. Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head once more, "I do—I remember, daddy." 

His hand stuttered over his length at the sound of the title. "Good girl, angel," he praised, voice strained. 

Harry reached his freehand around to thread his fingers through her hair, bringing her close to his cock, her mouth falling open on instinct. He guided her with a firm hand, though careful to be gentle with the strands of hair in his fist, pushing the head of his prick into the warmth of her mouth. Upon contact, pearls of precum glazing over her tongue, (Y/N)'s eyes fell closed. 

A heavy sigh fell from Harry's lips. As much as (Y/N) wanted to peek up at him, see the gape of his raspberry lips and the pinkened flush to his skin, she couldn't bring herself to leave the land of HarryHarryHarry that puddled in her system as the weight of his cock settled over her tongue. 

If she was being honest, this act—taking him in her mouth—was one of her favorites. Ever since the first time she got on her knees for him, she understood why Harry wanted to spend so much time between her thighs. In an odd sense, she felt comforted by it all; his hands laced through her hair or holding her own, the weight of his fingers or cock in her mouth, and the cradle of his body enveloping her no matter the position. Not to mention the butterflies that ran rampant in her tummy as she listened to his moans and sighs of her name, knowing that she was making him feel as good as she possibly could with nothing else but her mouth and her will to please him. So, she definitely did not mind that this was how he wanted to start his birthday night off with her. 

(Y/N) fell into her rhythm, bobbing her head along his length with her tongue following after in drags over his cock. Harry's hand served as little more than a reassuring weight on the back of her head, his fingers momentarily tightening and shifting in the strands the farther she took him in. Her breathing came in pants through her nose, growing heavier and heavier the longer she sucked him off. Once she felt comfortable enough, her movements easing and becoming more and more languid as she became used to the feel of him sliding in her mouth, she took him further, the very tip of his prick edging towards the tight funnel of her throat with the pillow of her tongue contracting underneath. 

It was then that Harry's thighs tensed on either side of her head, the crown of his prick jumping against her tongue with a strangled call of his favorite pet name for her—angel, of course—fell from his lips. As much of a struggle as it was, (Y/N) pried her eyes open, though still hooded, and peeked up at Harry through her lashes.

She found him with his gaze already fixed to her, eyes inky black and skin flushed with a gleam of sweat collecting on his temples. The tattered fabric of his top allowed for insight into the way his inked chest contracted as his lungs filled and compressed, tattoos dancing over his skin. Gosh, the view from here—sitting under him, saliva and precum coating her lips—as she watched him fall in love with her mouth was something she wouldn't forget. 

As soon as Harry caught sight of her gaze searching him over, something shifted. His hand in her hair tightened. The roots of the strands were tugged in a gentle pull as his fingers flexed, the line of Harry's jaw strengthening as he gazed down at her. 

"Gonna let me be in charge now, love? Ready for me?" he asked her, voice dripping in honey-thick lust and drenched in rocky gravel. Just as (Y/N) was going to settle for a nod of her head to tell him yes, she was tugged off his cock, a slick noise filling the air as the head of his prick popped out of her mouth. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw a string of her spit linking the full of her bottom lip to the tip of his cock, the salvia bowing before dropping against her chin as he drew her back. Her breathing came in broken heaves, lips glossed and eyes wide. Desperate to have him back in her mouth, feel the base of his cock under hands and his tip at the back of her throat, (Y/N) nodded her head in jerky motions. "Ye-Yes, I'm ready, daddy." 

A pleased smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the ring pierced at the edge of his mouth bobbing at the motion. "And what will y'do if y'need me to stop?" 

Through her hazed mind, (Y/N) wracked her brain in search of the vital piece of information he shared not even ten minutes earlier. "I-I'll tap your leg, right? Three times, and that means red—that I want to stop." 

Bringing his free hand that had been wrapped in the fabric of his comforter down to cradle her jaw, Harry wiped the pad of his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, disregarding the spit and precum that pearled over the skin. The curve of his lips turned proud as he gazed down at her. "Exactly, angel. M'brave girl, aren't you?" 

As silly as it was, she felt a bit bashful under these praises as she lent her cheek into his hand. "I'm trying to be." 

Harry only shook his head, the loose curls around his face swaying in agreement. "You are, darling." Before she could utter any kind of protest, Harry folded over himself and pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, the peck innocent despite the fact his naked bottom half was inches from (Y/N)'s face and shining in her spit. 

When he unfurled himself from the cove his body made around her, he gave a gentle graze of his thumb over her cheek before he lent back into that same hand that was now planted on the mattress behind him. That left him sitting over (Y/N) with his hand in her hair and a lazy smile on his mouth. It didn't take much coaxing her for her to follow along with his guiding hand as he tugged her forward, bringing her back to his cock. 

As much as she wanted to surge ahead, take him back into the warmth of her mouth and feel the weight of the head on her tongue and the vine of his vein brushing over her lips, she allowed him to be in charge just like he said. Just as in everything else he did, Harry started gently. He worked her over his length in familiar motions, the same pace she had been curating just moments before. 

It wasn't until she fell into that comforting rhythm with her eyes closed, almost taking over the motions though Harry still had a steady grip on her hair that things shifted. When her lips reached the point where she would instinctively draw back towards his tip, Harry's hand urged her to go a hair further. Her brows knitted together over her shuttered eyes though she allowed him to guide her, making a point to breath as steady as she could manage through her nose. 

With his cock just barely pushing into her throat with the head brushing past the root of her tongue, (Y/N) felt herself tighten up—tummy, insides, and throat alike—before he pulled her back, the makings of the gag that constricted her muscles ebbing away before doing any damage. He took her back to her his tip, her tongue laving over him as she took advantage of the break, breath coming in deeply through her nose as her brows relaxed again.

"Alright, baby?" Harry asked, voice low and strained. She could feel his eyes on her. 

Mouth full, (Y/N) nodded her head, humming an mhm around his length. Cracking her eyes open just a slice, she was granted a view of Harry looking at her with his gaze fixed on where her mouth was wrapped around his prick, his own bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth. His hand behind him fisted the comforter, muscles straining and dancing under the layer of tattoos on his skin. Every bit of his unrestrained strength seemed to be going into that grip, leaving the hand in her hair stern but worlds more gentle than what he was putting that fistful of bedding through. 

Nostrils flaring as he sucked in a deep breath, Harry gauged her reaction as he urged her forward. "Gonna do it again, alright? Gonna help you take me a little deeper." 

Another hum came from her throat, Harry's thighs jumping on either side of her head. Just as before, he allowed her to get comfortable with a few passes over his prick before urging her to take him deeper, the head of his cock pushing further down her throat. A distracting moan sounded from above her, Harry's voice dredged in gravel and just as breathless as she felt. The nudge of the head at her throat was enough to make her tense up, muscles constricting around the intrusion before she could school herself into calming her reaction. Just as her breath was stolen, Harry steered her back. This time, he pulled her off his length completely, the tip popping out of her mouth, glistening in her spit with swirls of precum shining in the light. 

(Y/N) shifted on her knees, the cushion underneath them dragging over the floor. Mouth dropped into a gap, she caught her breath with Harry's hand in her hair abandoning the strands in favor of sliding over her jaw and cradling her face. As gentle as he was, the second (Y/N) blinked her bleary eyes up at him, she could tell the effort to be so, was taxing. 

"W-Why'd we stop?" she asked, words coming out around her uneven breaths. 

She watched Harry's throat bob as he swallowed, gaze struggling to keep from dropping her to spit-slicked pout. "Wanted to give you a minute. Felt y'start to gag." 

Shaking her head before he even finished, (Y/N)'s brows pinched as she looked up at him. "I don't need a minute," she said, though her ragged breathing begged to differ, "I want to keep going, daddy. I can handle it, I promise." 

It was like a movie, his reaction. Harry's muscles liquified as he took in her response; the tense in his jaw disappeared, shoulders sunk, and bunched arm muscles slackened. Even his eyelids threatened to close on him. His cock had an opposing reaction, jumping against his stomach, taking (Y/N)'s eye for a moment before she urged herself to match Harry's gaze again to let him know she was being serious. 

"Y'think y'can handle me, angel?" 

That earned him a nod in response. 

A whispered curse floated in the air between them as Harry's body came to life again, muscles tight and unforgiving. "I really hope y'can, love." 

There was less than a second for (Y/N) to process his words before he shifted on the mattress, bringing himself to the very edge of the bed and closer to her face. The hand on her jawline snaked a path back into her strands, fingers threading through the hair fluffed on the back of her head. It only took a single nudge from that grip that had (Y/N) smearing her lips in a kiss over the underside of his shaft, nose skimming his length as she worked. 

A shuddering breath wracked Harry's body, his head falling backwards with the curls of his hair falling down his shoulderblades as (Y/N) watched from under him. He recovered slowly as she kissed over the thick vein vining around his cock before meeting the ridge leading to the head, the tip on her tongue swiping over the sensitive skin. 

Though he didn't seem to have the firmest grasp on his control, Harry told her with his best stern tone, "Wh-When we start again, 'm not gonna stop, 'kay? Said y'don't need a break, so if y'decide you do need one, you've got to stick to our rule." 

Her insides warmed at his concern, no matter what, he was always going to be a worrier, even if what they were doing was her idea in the first place. She placed a single kiss to the glazed head of his prick before she drew away. "Okay, H. I understand." 

She knew that was the response he was looking for when his hand flexed in her hair and a breathless smile curled his lips. A mumbled praise fell from his lips, the words being lost on their way to her ears before she was distracted with that same tight hand in her hair. 

It was a routine by now, the way he eased her over his length. (Y/N) welcomed him with a slacked jaw and gaze peering up at him through the frame of her lashes before it became too much—she became too lost, and had to close her eyes. She waited for him, preparing herself with as even of breaths she could take through her nose as he took her further and further down his shaft. The first glance of his head on the back of her throat had her bracing herself with one of her hands landing on his leg, palm on his shin with her fingers digging into his calf. The hand in her lap became restless, clenching and unclenching with nudges of the heel of her palm brushing at the apex of her thighs. 

Harry hesitated in the rhythm he made for her, the pushing and pulling of his hand on the back of her head stilling for just a moment as a shuddering breath sounded in the quiet of their bedroom. (Y/N) peeked her eyes open at that stall, finding him gazing down at her with his bottom lip being worried between his teeth. When his eyes caught hers, lips around his prick and gaze hooded with a shine of her spit beginning to layer over her chin, (Y/N) hummed around him, her own urging him to continue without words. 

That seemed to be enough for the links of his fingers in her hair to shift, his other hand coming to join in the messy strands of her hair. He pulled her off just enough to leave the tip in her mouth as he moved over the edge of the mattress, his legs braced on either side of her with feet planted on the floor. 

(Y/N) didn't realize what he was preparing for until the first thrust of his hips upwards, his cock filling her mouth though her head stayed just where he wanted her. Her spine stiffened at the feeling, the tip of his cock pushing into the tunnel of her throat. Her instincts urged her to pull back, save herself from the jolt of the intrusion, but the soothing weight of his hand made her stay just where he wanted, savoring the pump of the vein lining the underside of his cock. Instead, she shuttered her eyes and focused on breathing through her nose, however shaky the inhales were.

"Oh, fuck," Harry breathed when he felt the snug fit of her throat grow even tighter as he held her there for a beat, hips lifted from the bed. His tattooed thighs were bunched tightly, muscles stiff and unmoving as he fought to keep from bucking his hips any more. "I-I can feel you, angel—so tight. Go-Good girl, jus' keep breathing." 

Hearing him so breathless, struggling over his words just as she was used to doing, made (Y/N)'s confidence soar as he reared back, backside settling back on the mattress and freeing her airways for a moment. Now maybe wasn't the time to pat herself on the back, but it felt nice hearing him praise her for allowing him to guide her into new territory and to please him like she wanted. With that praise floating in her head, she welcomed the next gentle strokes of his hips into her mouth, saturated cock sliding over her tongue before reaching the familiar home it was carving out in her throat. 

His voice echoed in her ears, calling her a good girl, as she took the initiative and swallowed around him each time he tucked himself far in her mouth. She kept the gagging at bay each time she swallowed, Harry's pleasure being the most rewarding side effect of the tactic.

"L-Look at you, darling," he praised her, voice filtering through gritted teeth, "Weren't lying when y'said y'could handle me, were you? Doing so good swallowing around my cock." 

If she could have, (Y/N) would have smiled at him. If she was being honest, she hadn't been completely sure of herself when she blurted out that promise—the promise that she could handle him, no breaks needed, with his prick being shoved down her throat in whichever way he saw fit. It was nice to know she hadn't been lying to him. 

Instead, she only hummed a keening noise around his length, her tummy tightening when his bucking hips stuttered in their pacing. The moment he recovered he seemed to only be spurred on by that momentary lapse, the rocking of his hips growing faster though the depth of his thrusts didn't change. (Y/N)'s grip on his leg pulsed, the coarse hair under her palm grounding her to that moment. Her blood pumped past her ears in roaring waves, almost blocking out the muttering she heard Harry doing under his breath, his fingertips tugging at the roots of her hair. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he murmured, the cursing seeming involuntary, "Letting me fuck your face—su-such a angel. Go-Gonna make me cum on your face." 

Something in her shifted at the idea of feeling his warmth spilling over her features, painting the highpoints of her face and dripping towards her open mouth. While it didn't inspire the prettiest of pictures of herself, (Y/N) could only imagine the loving praise that would fall from Harry's mouth. 

Slick sounds erupted from around her mouth as (Y/N) laved her tongue over his cock with each thrust he pushed into her mouth. She wanted that now—she wanted the picture of her decorated in his release as he praised her with hearts in his eyes and his kiss on her neck. It was with that thought that she met his hips halfway, disregarding the hands on either side of her face. 

She fixed her concentration onto the pacing of her breathing and the air filtering through her nose as she pushed herself further than Harry had done himself. Harry's own surprise was documented in the way his hips stuttered, stilling as he let her swallow as much of him as she pleased. With her focus on keeping her head from the clouds, (Y/N) didn't even realize just how far she has taken him, how much of his prick has pushed through her mouth, until the tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair bordering his base. 

With her head moments from floating up into clouds she couldn't even fathom reaching, she realized just how surrounded she was by him; heavy hands in her hair, his length down her throat, thighs on either side of her head with her own hand wrapped around his ankle. The sound of his harsh breathing took over the room, choked and muffled with curse words thrown into the mix as her throat constricted around him and took the little bit of clarity he had left in his brain. 

(Y/N) held herself there for as long as she could stand. Her breathing was stilted, only the smallest amounts of air clearing to her lungs with her eyes watering and head growing cloudier and cloudier the longer she stayed there. His cock pulsed over her tongue, the vein along the bottom throbbing, balls tucked tight against his base with her chin nudging against them. 

He was going to cum, now, right? She probably needed to pull off and let him finish on her face, just like she wanted, but that sounded like too much work in the momen—

It wasn't until she felt Harry's hands in her hair change, his grip stiffening with fingers tight. He pulled her off as gently as he could manage in the moment, the sting at her roots bringing a ping of welcomed clarity when she was pushed back on her heels at his feet. 

Before she could peel her eyes open, Harry's hands in her hair disappeared, the sound of the mattress depressing filled the space between them as she fought for her breath. Finally finding the energy to blink her eyes open, she found Harry laid back on the bad, chest heaving as he sucked in lungfuls of air and his arms splayed out at his sides. 

A breathless, hoarse laugh fell from her lips as she climbed onto the bed beside him. His eyes were closed with his dark curls haloed around his head, lips pink and puffy just like his cheeks. 

"Harry?" she asked, her voice coming out as a croak. She really did take him deep, didn't she?

"Give me a minute," he whispered, sounding exhausted despite his cock still hard between his legs. 

A beat passed as she fought with herself to not throw her leg over his hips and straddle him, wanting him to take full advantage of the moment he was asking for. Was this his red?

"Are you okay?" she asked after a moment, itching to pull his shirt off and place her hands over his chest, dent her fingers into the garden of tattoos on his skin.

It took a minute before Harry seemed to urge his eyes open, the jade green of his irises drained to a forest shade that rivaled the black of his expanded pupils. He took her in, his gaze tracing over her features in slow runs as he took his time. 

"Angel," he started, voice thick, "Y'deepthroated me, and you're wondering if 'm okay?" 

(Y/N) canted her head at his words. She didn't know there was a special word for what just happened.

A breathy laugh fell from his lips as he smiled up at her. "'M perfect, baby," he said, "Had to make y'stop or I was gonna cum, and I haven't even fucked you yet." 

His eyes fell closed again as he sunk his head into the mattress, almost in disbelief at the beginning of the night's events. His tongue peeked out, the tip lining the full of his bottom lip before nudging the ring pierced through the side, his breathing still less than even. (Y/N) couldn't help herself as she watched him, reaching out and dragging a careful finger at the bottom of his shirt, pulling the hem upwards. More and more of his middle was revealed as she dragged her hands over his body: glistening tattoos pasted over tensed muscles, the pink tint to his skin that colored the designs between the black lines, and what she could have sworn was his heart thumping out his chest as she trailed her hand over him. 

Suddenly, just as she was getting close enough to possibly pull the shirt from his body completely, a tattooed hand complete with black painted nails reached out and grabbed for her wrist. Laying her gaze over his form, she traced the column of his neck and the hard line of his jaw until she found his darkened gaze pinned right to her and a smug smile on his lips. 

"No, not yet, love," he stopped her, edging her hand back down his body and pulling his shirt along with them in the process, "I don't think 's fair for me to be the only one naked on m'birthday." 

No wonder she felt so hot, (Y/N) realized. She was fully clothed, a pair of leggings that felt more like an hindrance than anything comfortable still wrapped around her legs and the slouchy sweater she couldn't believe made it through the night. 

Another breathy laugh came from Harry as he watched her reaction, his own hand landing on the thick of her legging covered thigh. He slid up the length of her leg before finding the rounded curve of her bottom from where she sat on her heels. He patted the soft curve, urging her towards the edge of the bed. 

"Go on, love," he crooned, "Get undressed for me, yeah? Wanna look at you." 

That was all it took for him to earn an eager nod of her head and a scramble of her limbs towards the edge. Another deep chuckle sounded from behind her as she landed on the flat of her feet, socks padding over the rug. She could feel his eyes on her back as she raced to join him, to shed layers of clothing that did nothing but keep her from feeling her Harry.

Her shirt was the first to go, leaving only a sheer, white triangle bralette to cover her chest before her leggings and socks were second to join the pile on the floor. The matching pair of panties tucked between her thighs did little to conceal the effect sucking his cock had on her, a wet patch darkening the delicate material. (Y/N) adjusted the cheeky cut of her underwear with her back to Harry, dipping her fingers beneath the waistline of it just as she heard him let out a low whistling exhale behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) furrowed her brows until she found Harry sitting up with his gaze pinned on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and a teasing look in his eyes that matched the tugs at the corner of his lips. "What?" she asked with a smile to her tone. 

Harry shook his head with a lopsided smile and single dimple denting his cheek. "Nothing, jus' like looking at you." 

She couldn't help herself before she was climbing onto his lap, core brushing his uncovered cock. Though a shiver ran up her spine, she didn't lose her smile as she straddled his hips and held his jaw in her hands. 

"You're not supposed to be saying stuff like that tonight, H. Its your birthday, so I'm supposed to be telling you how cute you are." Her argument was punctuated with a brief kiss to his lips, the contact soft and innocent despite the feral way her lips got so swollen in the first place. 

His head tilted in her hands, a teasingly pouted look on his face. "'M only cute? Y'take me all the way down your throat, and all I am is cute to you?"

A blurt of laughter fell from her lips at his reasoning, her hands on his face falling so she could wrap around his shoulders in a hug with her face tucked into his neck. "You can't say it like that," she giggled into his neck, lips brushing the tattoos she hoped would one day include a pair of angel's wings. 

"Why not?" he countered, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady as he jostled at her sudden hug, "That's what happened, right?" 

"Shhh," she teased, shaking her head as best she could in his neck. She melted in his hold, his arm around her waist and his chest against hers being the main things keeping her upright in that moment. Her next words came out in a whisper though her smile was still audible, "You're handsome, too, you know." 

She felt his laugh more than she heard it as it rumbled his chest. "I am?" 

"Mhm, not just cute," she explained, fingers splayed across the warm expanse of his back. She hesitated around her next words, drawing herself closer to him as if she could hide in his arms, "I—um—And, I think you're sexy." 

This earned her a full laugh that rumbled his chest and spilled over her bare shoulder as he held her. "You know," he said, falling back onto the mattress with her lying atop him, "I don't think I've ever heard y'say that about me—call me sexy, I mean." 

Her cheeks were hot as she tried to press closer to him. "Harry, I'm trying. Be nice," she whined, though her pout held little impact through her impending smile. 

"I am, I am," he argued, turning his face in an effort to press his lips against her temple, "Jus' think 's cute, that's all. I like that y'think 'm sexy." 

Hearing the word fall from his lips sounded much less juvenile than it did in her own voice. "Well, I do—I do think that," she whispered into his neck, dotting the skin with a kiss.

"I know, cutie," he murmured to her, words as gentle as his tone. He shifted over the bed with her, the comforter ruffling around them as he turned to her with the tip of his nose skimming her skin, "C'mere and give me a kiss." 

(Y/N) didn't take much coaxing before she listened to his instruction, drawing away from the warm home she made in his neck. Her mouth was smoothed over his in a moment, her bottom lip tucked between his two. She melted into the contact with a sigh that was swallowed by her Harry, her contentment coating over his tongue as he swiped it across her own after parting her mouth. Her arms she had fit around his shoulders kept her stable once she realized Harry was shifting under her, having become too lost in their kiss—the first real taste of him she'd had since retreating from her spot on her knees—to notice him rolling them over until her back was flat on the mattress. 

His arms were a cage around her before they retreated, the ruffled black duvet coming up in tufts around her body as she sunk into her skin, warm and pliant as he moved her. Her head came to rest on the pillows bordering the headboard, black silk cradling her head and splaying delicate strands of hair across the fabric. Harry drew away from her kiss, leaving (Y/N) with uneven breathing and heated cheeks. With delicate hands that had landed on either side of her head once he moved her, he plucked those rogue hairs off her face, disentangling them from her lashes and pulling pieces that stuck to the slick of her lips. His fingers moved like his eyes, delicately over her features in praising grazes of contact. A slow smile made its home on his lips, dimples deep and sweet in his cheeks. 

"You're so pretty, you know that?" he murmured, his voice dreamy and quiet like a secret, as if his prick wasn't pressing into the soft of her tummy, precum decorating the skin. "M'dream girl." 

He knew exactly the effect that specific compliment would grant him: a bashful smile, a flutter of her lashes, and a turn of her head towards her shoulder as if she couldn't handle being under his loving gaze any longer though she lived for the affection in his eyes. That's why he loved saying it—other than the fact that it was the truth, of course. 

"Stop, you're going to make me cry," she teasingly complained, threading her fingers through his hair. 

The smile on his lips only grew at her faux complaint. "You're right," he hummed, shaking his head, "Can't have y'crying jus' yet—that's for after I've had m'way with you, right?" 

She seemed to go speechless at his words, throat dry as she tried to imagine the kind of pleasure carting through her body that would elicit tears. Maybe he noticed the way her breathing hitched or the ratcheting of her pulse under the delicate skin of her neck, but Harry looked all too smug as he took her in. 

"Yeah? Like that idea?" he mused, dropping his head to kiss just where her blood was pumping at a hammering pace in her throat. He shifted over her as he did so, his cock pressing into her tummy, balls hitting her clit with a pressure that made his own prick jump and (Y/N)'s stomach tighten with a too-tight ribbon around her middle. 

In a shy nod, (Y/N) admitted her interest in the idea of being driven to tears by his touch alone. Taking advantage of the hiding place he offered with his bared neck and broad, tattooed shoulder, she whispered into his skin, "H-How would you make me cry?" 

The air in his lungs seemed to be heavy as he exhaled slowly, the air fanning over her skin. "Want me to tell you, or show you?" 

It only took a split second for her to make up her mind.

"Show me." 

A grumbled sigh of approval shook Harry's chest. His smile could be felt against the line of her jaw just before he drew back from her form. Escaping the hold of her thighs, Harry maneuvered to sit back on his heels between her legs. Running a heavy hand through his hair, he looked entirely too satisfied his gaze racked over her form. 

"Turn over for me, lovebug," he commanded, voice gentle and forgiving despite the steely suggestion. 

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment, her eyes rounding out as she looked up at him with confusion swimming through her irises, before listening to his instruction. Backing up, he gave her space to sprawl over the bedding before she settled with her tummy against the mattress and her cheek smushed into the black satin pillowcase. Her body felt restless with Harry's presence hovering just behind her, the bed giving way under him as he made careful work of spreading her legs and settling himself on his heels between them once again. He'd never asked her to do something like this before, to lay in a position like this. 

With that thought, a stoplight pinged in (Y/N)'s head. 

Lifting her head from the pillow, and looking at Harry over her shoulder, she asked, "W-What's your color?" 

She just barely caught the way a smile bloomed over his features in a slow tug from the corner of her eye. Planting his fists on either side of her waist, Harry lent forward with that same tender grin and dropped a kiss to the full of her heated cheek once he was close enough. 

"'M so green, angel," he crooned into her skin, the full of his lips grazing her cheek, "What's your color, hm?" 

Nodding her head as best she could, she reveled in the familiar contact of his mouth pressing into her skin. "Green—I'm a little nervous because I don't think we've done something like this before, but I have good butterflies over it." 

His smile only grew at her explanation, the curve felt against her skin one more time before he dropped another kiss and lent back. "Good," he murmured, "Tell me if your butterflies change then, alright? We only want the good ones." 

Another nod of her head came as she sunk back into the black cased pillow, her cheek smushing into the down. "I will, daddy." 

Harry's eyes could be felt dragging over her skin as (Y/N) allowed herself to melt into the bedding with eyes closed. Despite the butterflies over the new position, she was comforted by the reminder that this was her Harry. He was going to take good care of her, no doubt. 

"Y'look so pretty spread out like this, you know that?" he mused, "You're right, I think. I've never had you on your tummy like this before, have I?" Though she was sure it was a rhetorical question, one of his musings he put out into the world for no other reason than to fluster her, she still hummed an agreement and shook her head as best she could. Harry hummed in response, his hands coming to lay on the backs of her thighs, palms warm and heavy over the soft skin. They made a teasing pass over the skin, his fingertips brushing against the crease where her thighs met her ass and lingered for only a second before repeating the trek downwards to safer territory over her skin. "Thinking I should do it more often, though, don't you think?" 

At this point, with his hands tracing a trail over her skin and his voice reverberating in her ears and echoing through her system, (Y/N) was sure he could suggest anything and she'd agree whole-heartedly, no questions asked. That was how easy it was for him to earn a nod of her head and a keening confirmation that she loved where his mind was going as he gazed at her body.

His appraisal of her body lingered for moments longer, Harry muttering praises beneath his breath that had her skin heating and tummy turning just before he stopped with his hands on her sides. His fingers wedged themselves between her hips and the bed before giving a gentle tug. "Budge up for me, angel." 

Lifting her hips, she did as told while Harry reached for a pillow laid askew on his side the bed. The plush square was folded beneath her hips, helping to prop her up as she let her weight sink into the down and the bent knees she planted on the bed. Her body was presented to him with her ass up and pussy on display with the help of her spread legs, the damp patch she felt clinging to her form no longer hidden. 

"This alright?" he asked her, refitting himself behind her, the slope of her body allowing only an obstructed view of him now. 

His question earned a quiet nod of her head, her breathing hitching when she felt the press of his hard cock on the inside of her thigh. 

"Still green?" 

"Still green, daddy." 

He hummed as he allowed his hands to settle on her raised hips, fingers splayed across the soft of her skin. It only took a moment for those same fingers to wiggle their way underneath the waistband of her panties, the cheeky cut of the fabric digging into the cheeks of her bottom. 

"Wish y'could see how pretty y'look for me like this," Harry murmured, his gaze burning almost as hot as his hands on her skin, "Got your ass up in my face like 's m'birthday present. Best birthday I've ever had, that's for sure." 

Absently, (Y/N) felt her back arch at his words, presenting herself to him in a way she hoped would garner more praise from her position. If he liked her butt, she wanted to make sure she gave him every bit of the present she was being described as. 

A breathy laugh was heard from behind her before the exhale fanned over her heated skin, the amused sound being punctuated with a whispered cutie, falling under Harry's breath. He stayed quiet then as he took her in, his hands under the line of her panties shifting until his heavy palms groped at her bottom. The inside of (Y/N)'s thigh grew wet as a blurt of precum leaked over the skin. 

"Y'like showing off for me like this?" Harry asked, a mocking edge to his tone that made the butterflies in her tummy sing and flutter, "Showing me your cute little ass and wet pussy though your panties?" 

Her lungs twisted, unable to hold much air in them as she listened to Harry. She hadn't quite thought of it as showing off when she arched her back for him, but maybe there was something to be said about the way she lent back into his touch and only wanted to do more—show more for him and see if he liked it just as much as this view. 

Harry exhaled another laugh when she pushed back against his hands. The motion caused his hands to graze over her backside, fingertips denting the delicate flesh and thumbs hooking into the fabric of her panties. Her underwear collected on the webbing between his thumb as forefinger, the clinging material following after him and pulling up tight against her bottom. (Y/N)'s breathing hitched when she stopped, Harry having taken over and tugged at her underwear until the fabric was bunched tight between her cheeks, showing off the full of her ass. 

(Y/N) fell still under his hands as one of them disappeared, the mattress depressing by her feet where she assumed he had planted his fist in the bed. That left one of his hands on her body. His palm lazily dragged over the waistband of her panties, a low breath being let out behind her as Harry's fist wrapped around her underwear, just above where majority of the fabric was bunched between the split in her backside. Even the front of her panties was tugged back, the outline of her slit clear as day through the sodden fabric as it was retched back. 

His grip tightened until all that was seen was a white sliver in the cleft of her bottom, a satisfied hum sounding from Harry at the view. 

"Knew y'liked showing off for me," he drawled, voice thick and heavy as he gripped her panties tighter and pulled just a hair on the waistband, the fabric beginning to wedge itself between the folds of her pussy. A sharp jolt was delivered through her system as her underwear pressed unforgivingly against her clit before Harry let up on the tug, her thighs relaxing now. "I don't blame you," Harry continued, knocking (Y/N) out of her stupor that even stopped her from breathing, "not at all, angel. Y'have such a pretty body, no reason to hide it—especially from me." 

The free hand she figured was planted by her feet returned as his thumb appeared at the apex between her thighs. The pad of his finger pushed against the clear split outlined through her underwear, trailing up and down in the same teasing runs he delivered when he was grazing her bare skin. He prodded gently at where he knew her weeping hole was, (Y/N) jumping when she felt the brush of her panties being pushed against her tight opening. Harry soothed her in quiet coos as he moved onto the top of her slit, where her clit was bundled against her fabric. 

"Gonna whine for me again if I touch y'here?" he murmured, the tip of his thumb just barely pushing against her clit as he spoke. 

The only response he got was a wet gasp as her mouth popped open, unable to suck in enough air in anticipation. 

He didn't hesitate then to smear the pad of his thumb over her covered pearl, the sticky fabric wetting his finger. Just as he suspected, (Y/N) felt her body sag at the relief of feeling something pressing into her—anything giving her the kind of pleasure she'd been aching for since she found herself at Harry's feet. 

Harry played with her, grazing over her in light circles that barely allowed anything to register other than the lingering brushes of his thumb. (Y/N) was only halfway aware of the arch to her back and the way she pressed back against him in hopes of earning more of his touch. She could have cried the second she felt his hand retreat, all the pleasure and the warmth leaving along with him. 

"H-Harr—" (Y/N) was cut off by her own moan, the second half of his name dying on her tongue when she felt a soft smack of his hand laying across her center. 

"Angel," Harry hummed, both hands now soothing the back of her thighs as if to make up for the momentary sting delivered to her most delicate parts. "Wanna tell me your color?" 

Her answer struggled its way through her throat, the priority of breathing taking precedent in that moment. The lag seemed to worry Harry as his presence behind her shifted, his hand landing on the outside of her thighs before he hovered over her back, necklace dragging cross the knobs of her spine. He was closer now as she could tell by the heat seeping into her skin from his chest and the rumble of his voice into her ear.

"'S okay if 's not green, okay? Tell me how y'feel and we'll work together to make y'feel good, remember?" 

Something akin to panic tugged at her tummy. He thought she didn't like it, didn't want that hot rush that followed after his hand departed from her pussy. He thought she wanted to stop—or slow down, or anything that wasn't continuing exactly what he started. 

"No, no," she rushed, shaking her head, eyes cinched shut with her cheek pressed into the down of his silken pillow, "I'm green, I'm green! I liked that—d-don't stop, please, daddy." 

Harry's breathing changed, the even paced exhales and silent inhales disappearing in a hitch. "Y'liked that, angel? Promise?" 

"I-I promise," she agreed as quick as she could get out the words, "I liked it, daddy." 

A kiss was draped to the cuff of her shoulder before Harry dragged himself away, taking his seat back between her legs. His hands on her thighs rounded to the backside again, one trailing dangerously close to where (Y/N) swore she could feel a flutter of a faux-heartbeat. His honey-thick gaze was almost as tangible as the hands she felt on her as she waited. 

"Then, I guess I'll jus' have to do it again, won't I, angel? Can't say no to you when you've been so good, telling me all your colors and being so sweet letting me be rough with you. 'S the least I can do to spank your pussy like y'like, isn't it?" 

Gosh, when he says it like that... She definitely had a second heartbeat. 

Before she could even form any kind of plea, she felt the loss of his hand on the back of her thigh before a swift smack was delivered to the softness between her legs. A gasp escaped her lips, body jolting at the extra bit of strength he added to this particular swat. A moment of reprieve was granted in the way Harry bent over and pressed a kiss to the curve of her bottom, his once offending hand now running laps along the back of her thigh in soothing runs. She knew she must have calmed down enough on the outside when Harry retreated, leaving only one hand on her thigh and the other waiting to deliver what (Y/N) was beginning to crave. 

A third swift spank came with a soft thump of his palm against her pussy, this one the hardest of the trio though still extremely gentle, Harry using the barest amount of his strength. (Y/N) arched her back at the contact, her clit throbbing in the aftermath. Her body vibrated like a cymbal for a moment as she didn't even attempt to collect herself.

"Oh look at that," Harry awed, his palms slipping down the backs of her thighs and settled on her calves, "Got your toes curling and everything. Y'really do like this, angel. Gonna have to remember that one." 

(Y/N) didn't even realize she was nodding her head until she heard Harry's adoring laugh filter through the room along with a declaration that she was so cute following right after. His touch shifted over her body then, traveling up the backs of her thighs to the soft of her ass before working under the waist of her panties. (Y/N) prepared herself for another of those teasing tugs to be given to the fabric, pulling it tight against her form, just before the opposite happened and Harry took them down. The underwear lingered over her center, the wet material clinging to her for a moment before it gave and he could work it down the soft of her thighs. She helped him as he pulled them down the length of her legs, lifting her knees and feet when he needed until her panties joined the pile on the floor. 

Now bare except for the flimsy make of her bralette, (Y/N) felt especially vulnerable in her position with Harry behind her. There was no way she could hide now, each of her reactions and most intimate places left on display for her lover. Harry's breathing was heavy behind her in the way she could picture his chest heaving with a pink flush coloring through his chest tattoos before working up his neck in search of his cheeks. She would even bet that the tip of his cock was now the same flushed red shade that matched his lips after he bit them or allowed her to kiss them to her heart's content.

"Look at you, lovebug," he crooned as he shuffled behind her, his knees knocking into her own before widening their berth, "You're so wet for me. Must have been really torturing you if you're this sticky, hm? Letting y'suck m'cock only to pull y'up here like 'm going to fuck you, but I jus' keep playing with you instead. Gonna have to take good care of you to make up for it all." 

(Y/N) didn't even think before she pushed up against him, his cock nudging at her inner thigh while her pussy kissed at the bottom of his tummy. The only thing that rung through her mind was his promise to take care of her now, that it was her turn to feel satisfaction. 

"Please, please," she pleaded, "I want you, Harry." 

His voice was strained as he spoke again, "Don't worry, love, you'll have me." His soothing came along with the feel of his palm landing heavily over the small of her back, fingers splaying out. 

One cursory rock of his hips slid his cock up against her pussy, slipping between her folds and brushing the underside along her pearled clit. (Y/N)'s cry was cut off with only half of her oh my— making its way out of her mouth before the rest fizzled in her throat. Harry's own praising groan was loud between the walls of his bedroom, loud enough (Y/N) heard it over the rushing of her heartbeat in her ears. 

She needed that—needed him—in her right now. That was going to be the only way her body was going to settle enough to be present in the moment with him, she knew that. 

Harry seemed to be on the same page when he asked through his ticked jaw: "Are we using a rubber tonight, love?" 

"No, no, I just want you, please," she bubbled, the response coming like second-nature. She wanted to feel all of him tonight, nothing to separate them. 

A whispered celebration of fuck, yes, slipped out of Harry's mouth, the words bringing a small smile to (Y/N)'s lips. Nice to know she wasn't the only one that liked that they had the option to go without now. 

"Tr-Try to stay up on your knees with your back arched for me like this, yeah?" Harry started, one of his hands fitting between the both of them, assumedly to grab for the base of his cock, "But if y'get tired, I gave y'that pillow for a reason. It'll hold y'up if y'need it, okay?" 

"Okay," she peeped out, already steeling herself in hopes of staying in position for him. She was still on her mission to be the best little birthday present he'd ever had, anyway. 

"And you'll tell me if your color changes from green." 

His words were less of a request and more of a direct order (Y/N) still nodded her confirmation to. 

"And, you'll tell me if yours changes?" she asked a moment later, voice breathless. 

The hand splayed over the small of her back moved in a soothing run over the line of her spine. "I will, love, don't worry," he assured her through a smile she could hear. 

(Y/N) felt the knock of his knees hit the inside of her own as he adjusted his stance behind her just before her heart was pushed off rhythm when the tip of his cock brushed the bump of her clit. A sigh escaped her lips at the contact, Harry's hand at the small of her back working to soothe her with his thumb circling in the dimple at the base of her spine. He continued to coo to her as he ran the head of his prick through her folds, collecting all of her wetness to join the glaze of his precum and the wet of her saliva over his shaft. 

"Ready?" he murmured to her, always the one wanting to double check with her. 

"Please," she answered, voice floating between them on a broken breath. 

Harry didn't waste anther second before he nudged the crown of his cock at the opening of her wetness, her walls fluttering at the minimal contact and making it that much harder for Harry to slip inside. 

"Relax, baby," he crooned, voice as soft as his fingertips on her back, "Want me in, right?" 

"I do, I do," she confirmed, her words running together in her haste to get them out, "I'm just ex-excited, I'm sorry." 

A huffed laugh sounded from behind her. "'S okay, love. 'M excited, too, trust me. Jus' relax a little so I can give y'what y'want." 

She let out a murmured string of okay, okay, as she nodded her head into the pillow beneath her cheek. Taking deep breaths, she felt Harry working another circuit of his cock through her slit, willing herself to calm down and settle when she felt him nudge at her entrance one more time. Keening into the bed, the arch of her back deepening, she felt him push in, the head pushing through her clinched walls. 

"There we go, baby," he praised her, slipping further and further inside once the ridge of his crown popped inside, "Doing so good for me." 

(Y/N) felt a smile curve her lips at his words, willing herself to keep the clenching of muscles to her thighs as he pushed forward before bottoming out. His thighs were pushed against the back of her own, balls flush against her, with his hands shifting over her heated skin and grabbing at her hips. Harry stilled inside her, allowing for an adjustment period she still needed no matter how many times he had her. 

With his thumbs following the flared line of her hips, (Y/N) felt his warmth spread over her as he folded himself over her back. The hard muscles that lined his chest and stomach were pressed against her back just as she felt the pillows of his lips press a kiss to her shoulder. 

"Harry," she whined without meaning to, the call quiet between the two of them. 

"'M here, 'm here," he cooed, dropping another kiss to the corner of her lips, "I've got you, love, don't worry." 

He earned an absent nod of her head with his reassurances before her next sentiment left her mouth: "I love you." 

His smile could be felt against the full of her cheek before he proceeded to try and kiss her through the curve. "I love you, too." 

Harry lingered over her for a few more moments, cradling her with his own body before smearing a kiss on her shoulder and straightening out his spine. He gave a cursory rock of his hips behind her, nothing more than a short grind of his pelvis into her center that knocked a breathless moan loose from (Y/N)'s chest. 

"More," she requested, the word more delicate than she intended with the breathlessness of her voice. 

Without hearing anything other than a short, rumbling hum from Harry, she felt the loss of his body as he reared back, her mourning was short-lived before he was pushing into her again. Harry bottomed out with a sigh, this new position allowing him to press as deep as he could into her without the cradle of her legs stopping him. 

"Y'feel so good, baby, so fucking good," he said, voice strained. 

(Y/N) wanted to say something back, tell him that he felt even better, that she felt so full with him inside her and he'd never been deeper, but every sentiment died in her throat when he gave her another deep thrust. Without a condom, she was able to feel every vein and ridge lining his cock, the head nudging as far as she'd ever felt him. Her walls fluttered around him as he curated a rhythm that had the breath knocked out of her with each stroke inside. The only other sounds that could be heard over her breathless moans was the slap of his skin against hers and the growing wetness that slicked his cock with each thrust. 

She couldn't help herself but bury her face in the pillow under her cheek, each of her breathless calls of his name and the heavy slices of air that came tumbling from her lungs now muffled by the down. Her body jolted with every heady thrust he delivered to her center, cock sliding through her walls, hips smacking into her bottom, and balls tapping her clit in way that felt similar to the way his hand had been brought down on her earlier. Her toes curled over themselves as she steeled her legs to keep from giving out and to ruin the position she was in for her Harry. Even her hands were bundled into the deep black of the duvet, wishing they were instead threaded between the fingers pinching at the full of her hips. 

Harry gave a particularly hard roll of his hips, the stroke quick and cutting though he lingered as he worked the crown of his prick against her farthest walls. (Y/N) couldn't stop the cry that left her mouth in a wet gasp, the Oh my gosh!, muffled by the pillow just before one of his hands on her hips disappeared. His unrelenting rhythm never ceased even when she felt that hand reappear in her hair, familiar fingers threading through her strands and tugging at the root. Though he was still much more gentle than she was sure other people would have been committing the same act, (Y/N) was still pulled away from the sanctuary she found in his pillow at the force of his grip, neck bared against the satin. 

"No, not allowed to hide from me like that, angel," Harry grumbled, breathless and panting though his command still maintained a steel edge, "Gotta let me hear you, or 'm stopping, alright? Be good for me." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, daddy," she bubbled, voice throaty given her position, "I won't do it again, I'm sorry." 

"'S okay, baby," he told her, another roll of his hips delivered when he bottomed out, balls pressing into her swollen clit, "I know y'don't mean to be bad, 's okay. Daddy's still got you." 

His fingers left her hair in soothing runs over her scalp before he pet his palm over her mussed strands. As she adjusted herself to lay with her cheek smushed into the pillow once more, she felt his hand settle on the back of her neck, a welcome weight that reassured her that he really did have her. 

"Feel good, angel?" he asked her, hips stuttering when she felt her insides tighten at the use of her favorite petname, "L-Like having me like this?" 

"Uh-huh," she breathed, "Y-You're so deep. It's like you're in my tummy."  

When she heard the groan that worked its way out from behind his sternum fill the room, (Y/N) cracked open her eyes just enough to see him over the curve of her shoulder. He was a dirty dream as he thrust into her, raspberry lips parted and swollen while his attention was fixed on where he was disappearing inside her. The curls of his hair acted as a dark curtain falling around his shoulders, though the smallest of baby curls were pasted to the sides of his face and gleamed with sweat. His skin was covered in that same sheen of perspiration, animating his tattoos as he flexed his muscles and worked himself in and out of her at a rewarding pace. The length of his arm was on show with the way he had it stretched over her back with his palm pressed into the back of her neck, bicep tight while his grip was gentle. 

"Y-Yeah?" he gritted out, "Y'like that?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, sucking in a deep breath before it was knocked from her lungs by the driving of his hips, "I w-want more—want you everywhere." 

Harry's response came in the form of mumbled praises that (Y/N) was too gone to hear, only knowing that he said anything by the way his lips moved. His hand on the back of her neck shifted as she watched the muscles in his arm flex, his palm sliding down the line of her spine before rejoining the one that remained on her hips. She watched him work over her for a moment longer before she realized the strain on her hips he was putting on her, as if he were pushing down on them. 

"Harry, I-I can't—You're p-pushing—" 

"I know, angel," he murmured to her, "Jus' relax and lay into your pillow a little, okay? Gonna make sure 'm everywhere for you, like y'want." 

She didn't have much room to ask any questions, especially when she got the okay to lose the position that was beginning to make her thighs and back ache. Slowly sinking down into the fluff of the pillow propping her hips up, the slope of her body decreased until she was raised up only at her hips with her knees sliding out from under her until only a small bend remained. 

Harry slowed behind her, his grip on her switching to cradle the curve of her waist. (Y/N) used that moment to recover as she felt him shift behind her, her breathing coming in even paces now that he was warming himself inside of her instead of knocking her breath from her lungs with each stroke. Her eyes fell closed during this moment, leaving her only to feel Harry's body hover over hers. 

Unlike earlier in the night, Harry didn't settle with hovering over her. He allowed the weight of his body to press into her back, sinking her into the bed below her. The familiar cradle of his chest and stomach returned with the blocky muscles now heavy on her body as he pressed into her back. He tucked his face into her shoulder, his breathing coming out in humid puffs that clung to the bare of her skin. 

(Y/N) felt her insides pulse when she realized what he was doing: she felt him everywhere. 

His mouth was pasted to her skin in smearing kisses while he gave rocks of his hips into her, not even pulling his cock out before he was trying to press deeper into her. His body was heavy over her own, not allowing her to feel anything but the sheets beneath her and the hot press of his body from above. 

"This alright, baby? Can feel y'clenching around me." His tone was deep and lazy as it sunk into her pores, not even bothering to lift his mouth from her skin before talking. Just another bit of him she now felt inside her. 

"Y-You're everywhere," she keened, a wet gasp falling from her lips at the feel of his grinding hips.

"This is what y'wanted, right?" he breathed. 

"Yes, yes, daddy," she cried, "Thank you, thank you." 

Harry's smile was imprinted on her shoulder. His thumbs on her waist worked soothing circuits over the curve, a gentle reward for her politeness she couldn't seem to shake. "Good girl, so polite." 

As much as she was reveling in the full contact he was granting her with his body pressing her into the mattress, she was missing the heady strokes of his hips into hers. (Y/N) couldn't help herself before she hooked her ankles around Harry's own legs, the vining curve of her legs urging him into her while she pressed her bottom back into his hips. 

A breathy laugh was delivered to the back of her shoulder while his hands on her waist solidified their hold. "Yeah? Ready for more?" 

"Please." 

That was all it took for Harry to rear his hips back, crevices created between their bodies that left her cold for the moment before he was pushing into her again. With how close she wanted him, he didn't dare pull out of her as far as he had been before, instead staying near her and sinking into her with shallow thrusts though his pace quickened. 

His panting could be heard loud in her ear, his own breathing mimicking the knocked tempo of hers. With every bit of their bodies pressed together and the matching pace of their breathing, (Y/N) swore she wouldn't have been able to discern who was who in that moment; where one of them began and the other ended. She liked that. 

Just as her fingers began to curl into the tuft of bedding she was sure she was going to rip a hole into by the end of the night, one of Harry's hands abandoned her waist only to wiggle between her palm and the distressed patch of duvet she was imprinting her nails into. The second (Y/N) realized he was trying to hold her hand, she was quick to replace the comforter in her grip with his fingers threaded between her own. Her heart squeezed at the fact he still wanted to hold her hand in a moment like this. 

The familiar contact was enough to ground (Y/N) as Harry relentlessly thrust into her, her clit swollen and aching with each smack of his balls against the sensitive pearl. Even her eyes began to burn as she took in every inch of space that was being set ablaze by Harry's touch. If this was how he planned on making her cry tonight, he was definitely achieving as much. With his hand in hers, (Y/N) acted on instinct as she brought the bundle of limbs up to the pillow beside her head. 

At first, she only pressed innocent kisses to the line of his thumb. She could hear Harry's amusement at her affection in the breathless laugh that sounded between grinds of his hips, though he never dared to pull his hand away. Once she reached the tip of his finger, swollen lips kissing at the black of his fingernail, she gingerly pulled him into her mouth. 

The hard muscles of Harry's stomach twitched against the small of her back, pelvis stuttering as he drove into her, when the wet of her mouth enveloped the tip of his thumb. A whispered curse was smeared into her skin as he allowed her to pry his digit away from the bundle of their hands,  (Y/N) taking him in her mouth until his finger was completely wrapped in the warmth of her mouth. She sucked over his thumb much like she had with his cock at the beginning of the night, her tongue contentedly moving over him in lazy strokes. 

For (Y/N), this was, more than anything, another way to have him with her—another avenue to be close to him in the middle of all the lengths they were going to to be as near as possible to one another. It was comforting to have him in her mouth, anyway, and she knew Harry liked it when she sucked on his fingers, too. 

As much could be seen in the way he began to breathe like the wind had been knocked out of him and his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum if y'keep doing that," he panted, voice seemingly dipped in honey and rolled in gravel with the way it rumbled through his chest and poured over her skin. 

(Y/N) only nodded her head in jerky motions, his thumb still cozied in her mouth, wanting to feel exactly what was churning behind his stomach muscles that were still pressed into her back. 

"Y'want that? Want me to cum for you?" 

"Please," she lisped around his thumb, the word sounding a lot more like pleathe. 

His sweats slicked forehead dropped against her shoulder, the curated pace he had made with the rolls of his hips coming undone as he seemed at war with himself. After a moment, (Y/N) all too content to lay right there with Harry all around and in her, she felt him shake his head. 

"I can't, baby, not yet," he told her, words coming out through gritted teeth, "Wanna see your pretty face when I cum, 's that alright?" 

The thought of being face to face with him again tugged at the bottom of her heart, urging her to smile though she was much more occupied with Harry's finger pressing into the pad of her tongue. Reluctantly, she drew it from her mouth, now spit slicked and shining in the low light of his bedroom. 

"I wanna see you too," she told him, voice hoarse, "I miss you." 

Harry's voice was unsteady as if he were on the verge of tears as he spoke, "You're so cute, baby." 

Just after pressing a heavy kiss to her cheek, Harry peeled himself off her back. His hand retreated from hers though he still offered her a small squeeze before he situated himself between her thighs once again. Pulling his cock from her warmth, she was left without any connection to him aside from his thighs pressed into hers. She felt cold laying there without him, hips still raised by the help of his pillow under them. 

"Wh—" 

(Y/N) didn't have a chance to finish her question before Harry barred his arm under her waist and flipped her over under him. He untangled the mess of her legs and pushed the pillow off the bed, as he positioned her just where he wanted her before she could even collect her head and reorient herself. 

"There y'are," he crooned as he placed himself between her thighs, her bent knees on either side of him, "Missed your face, too, angel." 

Her hands were quick to cradle his face between her palms, her smile bright though she was leaning towards exhausted after all that had happened since they stepped into his bedroom. She used that grip on him to tug him down for a kiss, missing his lips and detesting the fact they'd barely kissed all night. Harry was a more than willing participant to make up for the lost time, slotting his lips between hers and chasing the taste of the mouth he'd missed all night. 

Distracted by the taste of his tongue slipping over her own and the comfort of the familiar act, (Y/N) hadn't even realized he slipped one of his hands between them until he lined up his cock with her weeping hole and he slipped right inside with a slick noise sounding in the room. He swallowed the aching sigh that escaped her mouth, the breath laying over his tongue before he shared it with her. 

The tempo of his thrusts was much less curated this time around, evidence of the fact that she really was about to make him cum just a minute earlier. He kept kissing her, their mouths slick and wet against each other, even as he dragged his hands over her sides, tracing her form down her legs until he reached and found the line of her shins. His palms were heavy and sweat-slicked on her soft skin. 

Harry pushed against her, pressing her calves flush against the backs of her thighs. Even then he kept pushing, using the strength she had fantasied about on her pliant body until he had her folded over with her thighs pinned to either side of her body and Harry had unfettered access to her center below him. 

(Y/N) threw her head back at the first thrust Harry delivered at this new angle, mouth dropped in a gape though no sound came out. It rivaled that of the depth he achieved behind her, though this time she was able to see him. He shifted above her as he rolled his hips, his knees depressing into the mattress on either side of her to angle himself that much deeper inside of her. Her feet dangled just over his arms, his fists pressing into the bedding to help hold him up as he fucked into her. 

"H-Harry," she whined, her hands on his cheeks shifting until her fingers curled around his shoulders, nails digging into the soft flesh. 

"I know, I know," he panted, lips smeared over the column of her throat, "Feels so fucking good, so fucking good." He punctuated every sentiment with a stroke of his hips, nudging deeper and deeper inside of her every rock of his hips. "I love you, baby," he told her, voice broken and gritted out through a ticked jaw. 

She abandoned the hold on his shoulders in favor wrapping her arms around his neck. Tugging him to her, she fought to press her lips to his in a frantic kiss. "I love you too, H, so much," she cooed, "H-Happy birthday." 

His smile was felt against her mouth. "Thank you, baby," he smiled, "Best little present I've ever had, you are." 

Her own mouth curved into a smile just as Harry delivered a particularly hard thrust to her center, the base of his cock grinding against her clit relentlessly as he lingered. A broken moan made its way out of her mouth as she turned her head to the side, leaving Harry to work his mouth down her neck while her cheek was smushed against the pillow. Instinctively, she shifted to wrap her legs around his waist, toes curling against his back while her walls mimicked her hold all around him and wrapped around Harry's cock in snug ripples. 

"Oh, fuck, 'm gonna cum, angel," he groaned, words coming out over broken breaths and poured over the curve of her throat.

She almost felt panicked at his admission, her legs unraveling from around his waist. The vision of her face painted in his release he'd given her earlier in the night reappeared at the forefront of her mind. He wasn't supposed to finish like this.

"Wait, wait," she rushed out, Harry immediately slowing at her request, "I-I want it on my face." 

Her cheeks flooded with heat at the sound of her own words, the invitation sounding especially depraved with the breathlessness of her voice. But, gosh, the second that picture entered her mind, of her with his cum spilling over her face while Harry moaned above her and praised her for being so pretty with him all over her, she knew that was all she wanted to end the night on. 

Once Harry processed her words, there was something like awe filling his gaze before his features crumbled and he had no choice but to drop his forehead to her chest. His breathing was nothing more than shoddy pants spilling over her skin, humid and weak. 

"D-Daddy can do that for you, baby," he promised, though she knew what was coming next. "Are y'sure y'want that?" 

"I-I am, I am," she keened, "Please, please, H. Let me be good for you."

His cock twitched inside her, nudging the spongey spot Harry made his own, as he breathed into her skin. He lagged behind in response for a moment, no movement other than the heaving of his chest against hers. 

"I-I will, angel, I will," he told her once he found his voice, "Gotta make y'cum first though—gotta be good and cum first, then I'll give y'what y'want." 

(Y/N) nodded her head on instinct, to reassure him and herself that she was going to be good for him. "I'm close, Harry, I'm close, please." 

No response was given as he instead dropped his head to smear a line of wet kisses along her throat and down her chest until he hit the line of the bralette still covering her breasts. He made quick work of that, slipping one of his hands between their bodies and ripping the cups down to sit underneath the curve of her chest. The peaks of her nipples were hard as he took one between his lips, licking his tongue over her before sucking as much as he could into his mouth. (Y/N) keened into his touch, back arching and pressing him harder against her breast. The tip of his nose could be felt grazing her heated skin from where he lay over her, enough of a touch to make goosebumps erupt over her. The hand he bundled between their bodies moved down until his fingertips traced over the bud of her clit, making it that much harder for (Y/N) to keep a clear head. All the while, Harry drove his hips against hers in deep thrusts, a relentless pace being curated in hopes of bringing her over that edge she told him she was already close to. 

"C'mon, darling, cum for me," he murmured to her after he released her breast from his mouth only to move to the other and repeat the motions. 

The circles he was making around her clit grew tighter and tighter until the pad of his thumb smeared heavily over the pearled bud, her legs shaking on either side of him. It was all too much, she needed something to ground her, something to remind her of the moment she was in and not get lost in the pleasure the would take her somewhere she'd never been before. 

With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) urged Harry off her breasts and back to her mouth. She drew him in for a messy kiss, mouths not quite lining up right, but she didn't care. This was enough for her, to leash her back in and make it that much easier to cum knowing that this was still the love of her life hovering over her. 

That was all it took for the spiral that ribboned in her tummy to tie into an unbelievable knot, coiling around her muscles and stealing her breath, then unraveling. 

"Oh my—Har-Harry!" she whined against his mouth, eyes shuttered tight while her hands were fisted behind his neck.

Her toes curled and her back arched, breasts pressed against his sweaty chest. Nothing made sense while her body shook and ran to keep up with her head that was threatening to float up to the clouds and stay there. Harry was the only point of clarity in her mind as she repeated his name in breathless calls, his fingers on her clit and heavy hips working her through the haze to the otherside. He followed her in those moments that her orgasm wracked through her body, gently kissing the corner of her mouth and whispering sentiments she wished she could hear over the rushing sound filling her ears. In the smallest part of the back of her mind, she realized that the tiniest of tears had begun to leak from the corner of her eyes and into her hairline. 

Aftershocks settled in the second his touch became too much, feeling too good to actually revel in the pleasure. "T-Too much, Harry," she breathed, absently shaking her head.

It was then that Harry's own body seemed to bow under the pressure that had been lurking under his muscles. His hand left her clit and his forehead dropped to her shoulder. Every inch of him seemed to liquify except for the hard cock tucked snugly inside her shuddering pussy. He seemed content in just laying over her, basking in her own orgasm with mutterings of how she was such a good girl for him, cumming so hard for him like he wanted, but that wasn't what (Y/N) needed right then. 

"You're turn, H," she told him, voice as steady as she could manage as her arms slipped from around his neck and stopped with her hands on his sides, "You still need to cum, too." 

As if he just barely remembered the request she'd had minutes earlier, Harry's body tensed and his cock throbbed. "Still want me on your face?" 

"Please." 

The way Harry groaned as he slipped out of her told her just how on edge he already was before he started kneeing this way over the mattress. His cock was wet with her own orgasm, the ruddy head glimmering while his precum threatened to leak from the slit. (Y/N) watched from under him as he stopped and hovered over her chest, knees on either side of her body while his own chest heaved with heavy breaths. His eyelids fell over his eyes in a lazy hood, lashes dark like his smudged liner and curling in the low light while his cheeks matched the flush coloring his chest. His lips even matched the red color of the tip of his cock, spit slicked and swollen. 

"Ready?" he breathed, a hiss escaping his lips once he wrapped his hand around the base of his prick. 

"Uh-huh," (Y/N) answered, her hands reaching to land on his thighs, fingertips denting the tattooed skin. "I want it, H, please." 

His eyes squeezed shut as he listened to her, his hand stroking over his shaft in frantic runs. The slick noises filling the room almost made her want to shy away, knowing that it was her own slick that caused that sound. But, there was never going to be a time where she passed on watching Harry make himself feel good with his fist around his cock and face twisted in pleasure. With her much clearer head, she wanted to remember every detail of this vision of him above her, stroking his cock and breathing out obscenities. 

When his hand stuttered over his length and a bead of precum fell from the tip and landed on her chest, she knew he was close—seconds away, if she was lucky. She tightened his grip on his thighs in anticipation, eager to feel everything he had to offer. 

"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, baby," he gritted out, his features crumbling as he jerked his cock. 

The first rope of cum landed over her lips, her open mouth catching most of it with the pad of her tongue. (Y/N) jerked back at first, startled, but soon fell into contentment as soon as she saw how much Harry liked it with the way he couldn't draw his eyes away despite the fact the rest of him was succumbing to the pleasure. He worked over his cock, drawing out more and more of his cum that landed on (Y/N)'s face in streaks that splayed over her cheeks, chin, and mouth—stray beads even landing on the bridge of her nose. If not for the fact she didn't want to get anything in her eyes, she would have watched every second and committed this to memory for any lonely night she couldn't sleep in Harry's bed. 

Once the last stroke splashed across her cheek, glancing over the height of her cheekbone, with nothing following right after and Harry's groans quieting to huffed breaths, she peeked her eyes open. He kept going, fist over his shaft, though he seemed to be spent, finally. It wasn't until she saw him visibly shudder from oversensitivity that he relented, hand falling from around his sensitive cock. He moved on shaky legs to leave his position above her until it was safe for him to slump into the ruffled bedding beside her with the full of his weight.

Harry didn't waste time before he was hovering over her again, propped up by his elbow with dark eyes taking in the state of her face. That look of awe crashed over his irises again as he gazed down at her. The look only heightened when he watched (Y/N) flick her tongue out and lap up the streaks that landed across her lips as best she could. 

He still didn't say anything as he dragged his finger through a rope that landed over her cheek, a little too close to her eye, before returning that finger to her mouth. (Y/N) knew what he wanted as she licked over the digit, cleaning the cum he scooped up for her. A breathless groan left his mouth as he watched her, her tongue slipping back into her mouth now coated in white. 

"Jesus Christ," he cursed before slumping back against the pillows, even the sight of her apparently too stimulating in the moment. 

(Y/N) only had time to let out a breathless laugh, moments away from cleaning up her face by her own hand before Harry reached over the side of the bed and returned with his discarded shirt in his hand. 

"Oh, angel," he cooed to her when he wiped his shirt over her face in careful runs, collecting the streaks of his cum, "Y'have no idea how pretty y'look right now, do you? Y'almost made me cum again right then when y'looked at me like that." 

A shy smile curled her lips as she leaned into his hand, letting him clean her up. "I don't feel very pretty right now, but I'll take your word for it." 

Once she was cleaned up and his shirt was thrown somewhere in the direction of his hamper, Harry didn't bother to respond before he caught her lips in a kiss. The taste of him lingered over her tongue, but he didn't pay it any mind as he laid his affection heavily over her mouth, as if he hadn't seen her all night. 

"M'sweet girl," he murmured, quiet and lazy enough that (Y/N) wondered if he knew he was saying this all out loud. "So, so good for me. So brave, and gorgeous. Thank you, baby, thank you." 

With his hands cradling her cheeks, she smiled into his kiss. "Happy birthday, Harry." 

He crumbled at her well wish, his own mouth now pressing into a smile that mimicked hers. He drew away just enough to press his forehead to her own with the tip of his nose grazing the side of hers. Their lashes tangled at the proximity once he dared to open his eyes, (Y/N) already waiting with her own exhausted gaze. 

"I love you," he murmured, voice like a secret between them. 

"I love you, too," she reciprocated without hesitation.

That earned her one more kiss before Harry reluctantly drew away. He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom, eyes tired and adoring. "Go wait for me in the bathroom, and I'll get some pajamas for us before we clean y'up, 'kay?" 

Though she didn't much like the idea of being separated from him right then, (Y/N) still nodded her head. She needed to use the bathroom anyway. 

Harry sent her off with a pat to her bare bottom as they crossed paths on the way to their separate destinations. Behind the bathroom door, (Y/N) took care of her business and cleaned herself up before washing her hands. The cool water on her palms was a welcome shock from the heated state her body had been in since setting foot in Harry's bedroom. With her chilled hands, she readjusted her bralette to cover her chest, feeling a little too exposed now that Harry wasn't with her. 

She only had a moment to yearn for him before he was knocking on the door before cracking it open. 

"Is it alright if I come in, baby?" he asked her, waiting for her hum of approval before he stepped over the threshold. He found her lent up against the bathroom counter, thighs crossed to protect her modesty with arms barred across her middle. A bright smile molded his features as soon as he took her in, a black t-shirt bundled under his arm as he shut the door behind him. A pair of dark green sweats covered his legs, but it was abundantly clear that was the only article of clothing he bothered to put on with his bare chest and lack of boxers peeking over the waist. "I only grabbed one of m'shirts for you," he told her as he held out the black shirt to her once he was close enough, "but I can pick some sweats out if y'wanted to wear some tonight." 

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head. He should know her better than that. "No pants," she murmured, taking the soft fabric in her hands before pulling it over her head while Harry let out a soft laugh. The top landed at the mid of her thigh and slouched off one shoulder, the article old and worn and even too big on Harry, but it smelled just like him and held signs of distress from years of love. It was her favorite thing already. "Thank you," she said as she flicked her hair out of the neckline. 

"Of course, love," he beamed at her, reaching for her hips before lifting her to sit on the countertop. Her back was to the mirror, where her line of skincare products was set up for the weekend sleepover they were planning. Harry trailed his gaze over the line before absently brushing his hands over the thighs that cradled his hips where he stood between them. "What first?" 

"Hm?" she hummed, twisting her neck to look behind her where his own gaze led, "What do you mean? 

"Told y'we were going to get y'cleaned up, right? You've still gotta wash your face after all that." A sly grinned worked its way over this mouth as he acknowledged what had gone on in his bedroom under the light of the bathroom. 

"Oh," she sounded, cheeks heating at the reminder, "Um—I need to wash my face first. That's this one." She picked the correct bottle out of the line, moving to slip off the counter and wash her features before Harry stopped her with his hands on her thighs. 

"Let me do it," he said, conviction laced throughout his words. Before she could utter the question she was sure was on her face, Harry pecked a kiss to her nose. "Yes, 'm sure. Jus' tell me what to do and we'll get y'cleaned up." 

"O-Okay," she stuttered, speaking through her smile, "We need to get my face wet first, then we just wash my face with my cleanser until its all foamy." 

She knew exactly what had clicked in his brain the second that a teasing glint flickered through his gaze though he tried to remain nonchalant as he ran the faucet with water flowing into his cupped hands. 

"Could've jus' done this part out there then," he started off innocently though his grin was anything but as he used his cupped hands to wet her features, "Since your face was already wet, anyway." 

"Harry, stop," she whined, though it held no conviction as she spoke through a grin rivaling his own, "Don't say it like that." 

"Sorry, sorry," he relented as he pumped some of her cleanser onto his fingers. 

A look of concentration settled over his features as he pressed his saturated fingers to either cheek. He moved in gentle circles over the planes of her face, his gaze following each run of his hands as he waited for the suds to appear. 

(Y/N) sat in pampered contentment under his attention, eyes fluttering closed after a moment, his ministrations far too relaxing to ignore. 

"Thank you," she peeped, careful to not move her mouth too much as he worked. 

"Of course, baby," he told her, voice sounding absent as his attention was fixed elsewhere, "Gotta clean up my mess, don't I?" 

With her eyes closed, it was much easier to utter her next words though she was sure Harry would be able to feel the resulting heat that filled her cheeks. "I liked being your mess." 

His fingers stuttered for just a moment over her features, his reaction lagging until she opened her eyes again. She found him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, pupils dilated as he dropped his gaze to her own mouth. 

"Harry?" 

The sound of his name seemed to shake him from whatever moment he was having. Clearing his throat he returned to the faucet, swiping a handtowel from the rack before running it under the water. "Think we're good to wash off." 

She only nodded her head, fingers fumbling with the hem of her borrowed shirt in her lap. Was that the wrong thing to say? 

Harry stayed quiet as he wiped the foam of her cleanser from her face, taking care to keep from brushing too harshly or grazing her eyes. 

"What next?" he asked, voice graveled as he kept his gaze trained to the line behind her. 

"I—um—I have it all set up in order, so the toner's next," she instructed, feeling shy now that Harry took her comment the wrong way. 

Even with her direction, he took his time reading the next bottle in line before picking it up, shaking it well before tilting her head up with a tap under her chin. She did as instructed, closing her eyes as she felt the mist of her toner land over her face as Harry sprayed it out. He fanned her face for a moment just as the bottle instructed before he tucked it away, this time not asking for any guidance as he ran his eyes down the line. 

With the next product warmed on his hands before Harry began working the serum into her skin, his eyes dropped to her mouth once more. 

"Y'like being my mess, y'said?" 

"Harry, I—" 

"'S okay, angel," he soothed her, a quiet smile on his mouth, "Jus' had to wait a second before I dragged y'back to the bedroom with me." 

"Oh," she sounded, feeling a little silly now as Harry ran his fingers over the line of her nose, "I thought... I didn't know if that was the right thing to say when you didn't say anything." 

Harry seemingly rolled her words around as he canted his head, reaching for the next product behind her once this one had sunk in. "'S the right thing to say if you're ready for round two, but I think we're both a little too tired for that tonight, aren't we?" 

(Y/N) agreed in a shy nod, dropping her gaze to her lap before Harry tipped her chin up again with dots of her eye cream on his fingers. Instinctively, she looked up under her lashes before Harry mimicked the motion he'd probably seen from her thousands of times as he dragged his fingertips gently over her undereyes. 

"Was there anything you didn't like tonight?" Harry questioned.

Refraining from shaking her head, (Y/N) felt the heat under her skin inch higher over her features. "No, I-I liked everything." 

"Everything?" he pressed, a teasing edge to his tone. 

She was forced to match his eye contact once he was finished with applying her eye cream and reached for the final step of her moisturizer. Just as she thought, there was a layer of amusement soaking in his irises with the beginnings of a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Swallowing, she found her voice around her fluttering heartbeat. "You made me feel really good tonight, H. I liked everything." 

With a scoop of her face cream doled out on his fingers, he didn't stop the smile from spreading over his features. "Everything," he mused under his breath, rubbing her moisturizer into her skin, "Gonna have to remember that." 

"Harry," she whined, wishing she could hide her face. 

"What?" he countered, shaking his head though his smile never waned, "Don't have to be shy, you know. If I didn't like it too, then I wouldn't be almost hard again jus' talking about it, would I?" 

(Y/N) chanced a short peek down his body. He was telling the truth. 

Harry only shook his head again, catching every second of her perusal of his body. With a final swipe on her nose, he pressed a gentle kiss to the soft of her lips before backing up from the cradle of her thighs. "All done, angel." 

Hopping off the counter, she gave him a gracious smile that stretched her cheeks and warmed her skin. "Thank you, Harry. I know I'm supposed to be taking care of you since its your birthday, but I really liked that. It felt nice having you do it." 

"Anytime, love. 'M happy to help," he murmured, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead before reaching behind her. He came back with both of their toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in his hand. His free hand nudged her to the sink. "C'mon, last part then we'll lay down." 

Taking her pink toothbrush from his hold, she waited as he positioned them in front of one of the sinks, Harry beside her. After wetting the brush, Harry put a a squeeze of the minty blue toothpaste he preferred onto the bristles, his hip bumping hers as he stowed the tube away. 

(Y/N) met his eyes in the mirror as she began to brush her teeth, aware of the way he was making a point to be careful not to nudge her with his elbow. He winked at her as soon as she caught his gaze, white foam beginning to collect at the corners of their mouths as they worked beside each other. Another slight bump to her side was delivered by Harry's hip, as much of a smile as he could manage around his toothbrush forming on his features. The curve only grew when (Y/N) reciprocated his teasing, a delicate bump being administered to the mid of his thigh from her own hip. 

Once it was time, Harry tugged her before the sink, letting her spit and clean up first before he followed. He gave her a soft smile in the mirror before murmuring to her to c'mon, that it was time for birthday cuddles before bed. (Y/N) would have skipped to the bed if not for how exhausted she was, climbing under the ruffled bedding after kicking the discarded pillow on the floor towards the hamper. They were going to have to do some odd laundry tomorrow. 

Harry joined her with open arms, his chest an inviting pillow as he cradled her into his side. Resting her head on his chest, she curled in on herself with her gaze pointed down towards their feet and one of her hands flat on his tummy. Sinking into the mattress, (Y/N) felt Harry's body relax under her with his chest expanding in a deep breath. 

"You had a good birthday, H?" she asked once her eyes fluttered closed, hooking her ankle over his under the duvet. 

His heartbeat under her ear fluttered but was quickly overshadowed by the rumbling of his voice. "Had the best birthday, angel. Don't know how we're gonna top this one." 

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," she smiled, her huffed laugh fanning over his stomach. 

"I already have a few ideas," he teased, his voice dropping an octave. A beat passed before he spoke again, his voice soft, "But really, I had a wonderful day, thanks to you, love. I had so much fun with you." 

(Y/N) couldn't help herself before she planted a delicate kiss to one of the roses tattooed on his skin. "Love you," she mumbled, growing sleepier the more she felt his voice rumble under her ear, "Happy birthday."

Harry's arm around her clutched at her hip, bringing her flush against his side. This time, she was allowed to hear the full symphony of his heart stuttering and fluttering. She liked to think that was because she told him she loved him. But, maybe that was just the call of her dreams talking. 

The last thing she heard before she was tucked away in her dreamland was Harry murmuring into her hair: "I love you, too, angel. Can't wait to spend all m'birthdays with you."

———————-

combined a couple of requests to put this one together but hope everyone enjoys it!! thank u all sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes!! if you have any ideas or requests of ur own please please send them in!

[nyxnygma]

could i request some major fluff of nikki coming home to his wife and kid(s) ?? i love your stories so much babes! ❤️❤️

A/N: Oml I love this <33 it’s only short and it’s not my best work but I hope you enjoy anyways

Home Sweet Home || Nikki Sixx

[Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Nikki comes home to his family after a long day in the studio

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Nikki has been stuck in the studio with his bandmates for the past 6 hours. The whole ordeal was stressful as they couldn’t stop arguing about what song needed be recorded again. Even though it’s not been that long, he missed being in your soft embrace and watching his twin daughters running around with their toys and his baby boy sleeping in his crib.

“Alright let’s try this again tomorrow,” Nikki suggests to his squabbling brothers.

“I agree,” Mick nods, standing up and heading to the door before the other two men could speak their opinion.

The bassist wasted no time in picking up his coat and rushing to his sports car, it took a lot of strength to stop himself from running.

You smiled when you heard the car doors shut and finished putting the plates down on the table. “Your home early,” you smiled as you surprised him at the door. Nikki just smiled at you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into a passionate kiss. “What was that for?” You giggled.

“Just wanted to show you how much I missed you,” he smiled pulling you back in to kiss your cheek. The peace was interrupted by the sound of the two 5 year-olds running against the oak floor.

“Daddy!” The two girls greeted their father by hugging his legs.

“Hey!” He smiled picking them both up in his arms with ease and hugging them tightly against his torso.

“Daddy, you’re squishing me,” Trixie groaned as she pushed her dad jokingly, their mum departing them to check on the food and son.

“Sorry sorry,” he laughs, “I just missed my two princesses.”

“I missed you more!” Star argued with he father.

“Impossible,” he hummed, setting the children into the floor as the trio wandered into the kitchen. Star and Trixie sat down on the table and carried

“Hey there buddy,” Nikki smiled as he walked over to Ezra in the high-chair and kissed the top of his head.

The five of you ate the dinner you made before moving to the living room where you watched movies and spent the night, happy, together.

Snuggling up to your husband in bed after tucking your daughter into bed, Ezra cuddled up between the two of you, you sigh. “Do you know how much I love you Nikki Sixx?” You whisper.

“I think I have an idea,” he chuckles lightly, “and I love you too, Y/N Sixx.”

[mackenzielovee]

ambivalence part eight: talk slow - rafe cameron

a/n: howdy sorry this is longer than usual but oh well hope you all enjoy let me know what you think xoxo

Summary: Rafe finally gets everything he wants, and loses it within a minute.

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, slight sexual innuendos

Word Count: 5.6k+

series masterlist

my writing

You let out a frustrated groan when you hear the doorbell ring, being able to feel Rafe's presence on the property but not being ready to go, yet. You start frantically shoving makeup and lipgloss into a clutch you dumped out, listening to the cheers from Rose and your mom as the Camerons file inside downstairs.

Rushing into the bathroom for one last look, you pop your lips, feeling your lipgloss stick. When the knock comes on the door, you're less than surprised.

"Come in," you call, rushing back into your room to continue getting your clutch together.

"Sweetheart?"

The door opens and parts only slightly, but you can see half of Rafe's face squished into the crack. You smile tightly and shake your head, silently running through the list of everything you want to remember. You adjust the skinny strap on your right shoulder, then speak.

"Come in, Rafe," you repeat.

He pushes the door further open as you turn and walk back over to your desk, pulling your emergency cash out of the drawer and tucking it inside the clutch. You hear Rafe close your bedroom door softly, so as not to draw attention to the fact that he's snuck upstairs.

"Erm."

You spin at his noise, finally letting your eyes settle on Rafe in his suit. His hair is all done up the way it usually is, and he puffs out his chest when you look over, scratching his forehead and exposing his Rolex while he does.

"You look-" he starts, still anxiously scratching his skin.

"You don't have to-"

"Absolutely beautiful."

Your lips curve up in a smile, suddenly forgetting all about your clutch and emergency money and if you already put gum in there or not. He smiles when you do, finally dropping his hand from his forehead. Subconsciously, you tug at the spot on your hips that the dress seems to not fit right, and it takes everything in Rafe to not swat your hands away.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Cameron," you tease him, walking up to him and settling your hands on his chest.

You run your fingers down his tie, observing how it perfectly matches your dress. Rafe had taken his time picking it out, wanting to make sure you would approve. It's your first public outing together, after all.

"Do you like the tie?" he asks, hint of nervousness in his voice.

"I love the tie," you smile, letting your hand settle into the center of his chest, "I would also love a proper greeting."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he playfully rolls his eyes, gently tugging on your hip to pull you into him.

You smile as he starts to lean down, inhaling his cologne and aftershave, noting silently how well-shaven he is. He smiles just before he kisses you, letting it linger for a while before he pulls away again. You grin when you see how your lipgloss had transferred onto his lips.

He lets you reach up and use the base of your thumb to wipe the lipgloss away, listening to him chuckle as you do.

"Sorry," you mumble to him.

"Don't be," he smiles, giving you another kiss so as to show you how much he doesn't care.

"Let me just finish getting my stuff together, then we can go down," you tell him, watching as he nods and squeezes your hand before he drops his hands.

"Take your time, I'm fine with the view up here," he smirks, collapsing onto your bed.

"Cheeky," you tease, picking your clutch up once more.

"What happened to those little lights you used to have hanging over there?" Rafe asks, pointing to the wall that used to hold your twinkle lights.

"I took them down."

"When?"

"Three years ago."

Rafe snickers at your answer, watching as you shake your head. You close your clutch and step over to him, watching as he immediately shifts so he's sitting instead of laying down, pulling you into his lap.

"I guess I haven't been up here in a while," he frowns.

"My fault," you whisper, running your fingers through his all done up hair.

"Yes, babe, it's absolutely your fault that you haven't been pulling me up to your bedroom every time I come over for dinner. Surprised your dad hasn't-"

"Y/N!"

You look over at Rafe, dropping your jaw. He laughs and shakes his head, tapping his hand on your thigh to silently tell you to stand up.

"It's like I know this family or something, huh?" he snickers.

"Then you know he'll kill you if he finds out you're in my room,"  you tease him.

"Worth it."

You smile, giving him one last peck before you tug on his hand to lead him toward the door and downstairs. Rafe squeezes on your hand when you two reach the bottom of the stairs, keeping his grip tight so you don't pull away from him just because you're around your families. He's ready to tell.

"Oh, my God!" Rose exclaims when she sees the two of you, "Y/N, you look gorgeous! You two look great together!"

"Thank you," Rafe beams, his thumb stroking up and down the skin on your hand.

"Oh, come outside with everyone, I have to get pictures!"

Rafe does his best not to roll his eyes at his step-mother, instead leading you out to the patio to appease her. Your parents gush over you and Rafe, your mom even giving you the raised eyebrow as if to ask why he's refusing to let go of your hand if he's just a wedding date. You smile and shake your head, telling her you'll talk later. Scott emerges from the house, tie hanging around his neck.

"Um, Y/N," he says quietly, grabbing onto your elbow as he approaches you and Rafe, "I need you to help me with my tie."

"Sure," you reply to your brother, feeling Rafe reluctantly release you so you can help him.

Rose takes the opportunity to pull Rafe into a picture with Wheezie. Sarah and John B are nowhere to be found, and despite Rafe being your date, you just can't help the feeling in your gut at the thought of seeing him.

"I'll kill him, you know," Scott says quickly, watching as you focus too hard on his tie.

"What?"

"I'll kill Rafe if he pulls anything tonight."

You chuckle, patting your brother on his chest before you continue with your tie, "Scott, trust me. Rafe won't be the one to ruin tonight."

"You're worried about John B, then?"

You groan when you make the wrong move, having to undo almost all the work you've done to try again. Although Scott's conversation is distracting you, he doesn't seem to mind that you aren't moving fast.

"Yes," you admit quietly, glancing back to make sure Rafe is away, "Things are just a little complicated right now."

Scott laughs, and you watch as his eyes flicker from where Rafe is staring down to you, "It doesn't look complicated for Rafe. He's glanced over here about twenty times in the last ten seconds."

You bite your lip to hide a smile, sighing in relief when you pull the knot up Scott's tie and finally settle it on his collar. He even lets you adjust the collar, which he never does.

"Just leave John B to me," Scott nods his head down to you, "I think your boyfriend wants you over there. Thanks, for the tie."

You turn and see Rafe staring at you, and when you meet his eyes, he beckons you over. You turn back to Scott, squeezing his forearm as a thanks for the talk, and then make your way to Rafe. He holds out his hand when you get close enough, which you gladly accept.

"You okay?" he whispers in your ear, ignoring commands from Rose about posing for a photo.

"Fine," you nod, giving him a smile.

"Scott was giving me the death stare over there."

"He's fine, trust me. Everything's perfect."

Rafe takes your word for it, pressing a small, tender kiss into your forehead. You hear Rose's camera snap right then, but you don't think much of it until she looks at it and explodes with excitement.

"That is too precious! You two are going to have to do a Christmas card or something," she grins.

Rafe just rolls his eyes, telling Rose to take some more so everyone could leave. Rafe keeps his hand just above your backside the entire time, but is so innocent about it that you can't tell if he means what he's doing or not. You're sure he does.

Just as Rose snaps one last picture of you and Rafe, you hear Ward yell to Rose that John B and Sarah have arrived. You tense, naturally, which makes Rafe look down at you. You glance at Scott, giving him a small nod of appreciation for keeping an eye on you.

You don't look to Rafe, mostly because you don't have time. John B and Sarah step out onto the back patio and earn the attention of everyone, gushing about how good they look together. You watch John B's movements, the way he smiles to Ward but drops it too soon; the way he shoves his hands into his pants pockets and doesn't shake your father's hand. Or Scott's.

He's uncomfortable and you know it, but you're glad. After how uncomfortable you've been, he deserves a little of it, too. When he looks over and sees you, you see him swallow visibly as he takes you in. Rafe wants to mark his territory, every caveman instinct rising to the surface as he watches you two stare at each other. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets you have your moment.

You break the glance after a moment, opting to stare at the grass instead of your ex-boyfriend. You can feel Rafe's gaze burning into the side of your head, you just really don't know what to say. You feel guilty for even thinking twice about John B when you feel so strongly about Rafe. It shouldn't even phase you.

"Hey," he whispers after a second, "Y/N, hey."

You finally drag your head to look up at him, sure he's probably going to go off on some rant about how John B never deserved you and you shouldn't feel anything anymore. But you do feel different. You don't want to be with John B in any sense of the word.

You just want Rafe.

"It's okay to be upset," he tells you, "It's okay. If you want to spend the entire night talking about what happened with you two, I'll listen. Just don't go radio silent on me, yeah?"

You give him a small smile, moving from beside him to in front of him. You no longer care of your parents or Scott or John B or anyone sees. Your heart swells at his words, that he would be so willing to listen to you whine about John B all night just to spend time with you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling him wrap his around your waist and pull you closer. He meant what he said, but now he's glad he said it.

"I don't want to talk about him," you mumble, "I want to talk about you. And us. I want you to tell me more stories from when I was oblivious-"

"You were not oblivious, sweetheart," he smiles, keeping his composure although his heart is practically beating out of his chest.

"Hm, are you crossing any fingers back there, Cameron?"

He laughs, a real, heavy laugh. It earns the attention of a few people on the porch, but you don't care.

"No. I'm never lying with you."

You smile, using one hand to stroke through the hair on the back of his head and pulling him down a bit. You feel him hesitate, worried that Scott or your father will chase him down the driveway with a baseball bat if he kisses you right now.

"Don't worry about them," you whisper, and he wonders if you can read his mind, "Scott's fine and my dad's already drunk."

Rafe laughs once again, then leans all the way down and presses his lips to yours. He keeps it long enough to satisfy you, but short enough that he's not full on making out with you in front of both of your families. When Rafe looks up and spots Rose holding her camera, she just winks at him. His cheeks flush.

"I needed that," he whispers to you, pulling just far enough away that he can see you.

"Me, too."

He takes a deep breath and untangles from you, wrapping his fingers through yours again. You both step over to the group, who is packing up to leave. You watch as Rose steps over to Rafe, showing him something on her camera. Rafe's jaw drops halfway, and you watch as his cheeks grow pink again. She pats him on the arm and smiles, no real words communicated between the two. You start to ask him, but your mom shuffling everyone into the house distracts you.

"Is it okay if I drive us?" Rafe asks, setting his free hand on your hip as you both enter the house.

"I would love that," you nod, watching him smile.

Rafe steps away from you to let his parents know you two are leaving. You unlock your phone and try to keep yourself busy, only to have your elbow tugged on by your little brother again.

"Please let me ride with you," Scott says quietly, "Mom's trying to get me to slow dance with Wheezie, and it's either her or sit in a car with Sarah and John B. Please?"

You laugh lightly, glancing over at Rafe and seeing he's already watching you. He nods, as if to answer the question you're asking him in your head.

"That's fine," you tell him.

"Thank God."

Rafe steps back over to you after a moment, setting his hand on your back to guide you out. He swallows at the way his fingertips keep grazing bare skin on your back, knowing that's not going to be good for him later on, when he has a few drinks and so do you. He's already having enough trouble.

You're pleased when Rafe and Scott actually speak to one another in the car. They talk like old friends ('hey, Cam, remember the time you pushed me out of your tree house?', 'yeah, your sister was more upset about sleeping in the waiting room than you having a broken wrist'.). Ever since they were kids, Scott had called Rafe 'Cam'. It makes you happy to see them getting along so well again. Despite Scott being present, Rafe keeps his right hand in yours the entire ride.

By the time the three of you arrive at the church, you're worried that your date will be too busy hanging out with Scott to even notice you. They're laughing so hard that it takes Rafe three tries to back his truck into his parking spot, each time Scott teasing him more and more.

"Can you two chill out, please?" you groan, watching them pretend to wrestle in the parking lot.

Scott had initiated it, saying he could still kick Rafe's ass. Rafe countered by saying such a thing had never happened. And now, you're standing with your hands on your hips, wanting to go inside, but waiting on your boy and your brother.

Rafe laughs and holds his hands up, telling Scott he's done at your request. He steps over to you and you groan, finding his hair to not be perfectly set anymore. You frown as he tries to fix his jacket.

"What's that face for, sweetheart?" he asks when he looks up at you.

"Nothing."

"Come on, now, none of that pouty shit. Look at me," he demands, but his voice is so soft you know he'd crumble in a minute.

"I need to fix your hair," you say, watching him grin. It makes you smile, too, even though you wanted to tease him and stay upset for a bit longer.

"You would've had to, anyway."

"No, I wouldn't have to if my brother and my boyfr-"

Your hand clamps over your own mouth, as if you're trying to shove the word back in. You watch Rafe's face fall as he stares at you, all playfulness gone from his eyes. Scott scoffs, then holds his hands up.

"I'm gonna - yeah. You two have fun."

Your brother walks off, but you barely notice. You finally let your hand fall from your mouth and your eyes shift to the ground, wondering how the hell you're going to take that back. You can feel him still staring at you, so you swallow nervously and looks back to him again.

"Rafe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I'm gonna need you to finish that sentence."

You furrow your eyebrows, and he watches as the skin above your nose creases. He hasn't moved a muscle since you almost said the word.

"Rafe," you whisper, begging him to give you a better reaction than that. You have no idea what's going on in his head.

"No, I just want to hear you say it. Finish your sentence."

You swallow, watching his eyes move frantically around your face and eventually settle on your lips. You're not sure why the hell he wants you to say it, but you appease him. Your hands start to shake, so you clasp them together before you speak.

"I-" you let out a deep breath, watching as Rafe clenches his jaw, "I wouldn't have to if my brother and my boyfriend would stop wrestling in the parking lot."

The way Rafe closes his eyes and sighs after you breathe the word reminds you of the way a smoker who finally gets their fill of nicotine. You can see his body relax from its tense state, and when he opens his eyes again, you swear he looks intoxicated. He steps forward and grabs ahold of you before you can even realize it, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you yet.

"I was going to ask you," he whispers, his voice almost raspy, "For the record. Had it planned and everything."

"Oh, yeah?" you reply, hands creeping their way up his back, "What happened?"

"You."

You grin, bringing one hand up to meet his still-messy hair. He leans down and kisses you, gentle at first and then deepening it, losing control of himself. The dress, the pictures, the word. Everything has been building up, and he's not sure he'll be able to stop himself. You pull away after a minute, stopping him when he starts to get a little too handsy in the parking lot of a church.

"We need to go inside," you suck in a deep breath, observing the wild look in his eye as he wants to continue more than anything in the world.

"Can we finish this conversation, first? I didn't mean to get carried away," he sighs.

You bite your lip and nod, subconsciously beginning to fix his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment when your nails brush into his scalp, swallowing under your movements before he opens his eyes again.

"I still want to ask you all properly," he insists, "But, I can't wait. Please be my girlfriend."

You smile wide, which makes him smile, too. You can tell he's nervous, even though he's crazy if he doesn't know the answer. You nod your head, bringing your lips to his to give him one last, gentle kiss.

"Sure I will," you breathe against his lips, "Cam."

He snickers, giving you one last peck, "You can't start calling me that."

"Fine."

He laughs, letting you pull back from him and work more on his hair. He stares at you as you concentrate, unable to believe that he's finally gotten you. Now comes the hard part, he thinks. Not fucking it up.

Once you finish, you give him a smile, "You look very handsome."

"You look like you just got macked on in the parking lot."

You laugh, but don't mind. He takes your hand and leads you inside, finding your families before you do because of his height. Scott smirks when he sees the two of you walk up, noting your lack of lipgloss and the fact that Rafe's hair looks like it had been combed through with your fingers instead of a brush.

Scott mutters something to Rafe, which makes his cheeks flush. You smile as he pulls you down next to him, wrapping one arm loosely around the back of the pew behind you.

"So," he whispers in your ear, "Am I allowed to tell Brady that I won?"

You snap your head over and furrow your eyebrows at him, "He's about to get married, Rafe. I think he will think he won."

Rafe shakes his head quickly, "He didn't."

You squirm slightly in your seat, trying to get the butterflies in your stomach to chill out. The entire ceremony, you wonder. You wonder how you never noticed, and you wonder where you and Rafe would be right now if you had.

By the time it ends, everyone seems to be ready to drink and have fun. Scott rides with you and Rafe to the reception, teasing you both relentlessly about how you had slipped up and then you both didn't come inside for several minutes. Rafe doesn't seem to care, though. He seems way too happy with how things had worked out.

The reception hall is beautiful. Breathtaking from the moment you enter. You take it all in; the lights, the signage, the food, the tables, everything. When you glance back at Rafe, who's back is pressed against your front with his chin resting on top of your head, he's just staring right back down at you.

"Do you wanna get a drink?" you ask him.

"Yes," he nods, "Go check out the deck, I'll get drinks."

He pecks you on the forehead, untangling his hand from yours and stepping toward the bar. You do as he instructs, stepping outside. Twinkle lights cover most of the deck, and with the sunset, it's one of the most beautiful scenes. Perfect for a wedding night.

You look around and find Sarah and John B dancing in the middle of the crowd outside, a wide smile spread across your ex-boyfriend's face. There was a time where that look would've given you every type of butterfly out there. Now, you want nothing but the sweet boy inside, ordering your favorite drink order, which he memorized last year at Midsommers.

"There she is!"

You turn around and spy your best friend, standing about five feet away and looking handsome as hell in his gray suit. Kelce stands beside him, salmon colored blazer wrapped around his body and his body already swaying with the alcohol he's consumed.

"Hey," you cheer, giving Topper a hug, then Kelce.

"You look hot," Kelce blurts.

"Dude," Topper shoves Kelce's shoulder, making him lose his balance and almost fall. Luckily, he catches himself just in time.

"Thanks, Kelce," you laugh.

"Cameron ditch you already?" Topper teases.

"No, he's-" you turn, finding Rafe walking outside just then. You watch as he does a two second scan, finding you almost immediately despite the crowd.

"Yo, bro," Topper greets Rafe once he reaches you guys.

Rafe hands you your drink, your favorite drink, tucking his hand around you and letting it linger on your waist as he pulls you into his side.

"What's up, Top?" Rafe asks, sipping his drink and then adding, "Kelce is drunk already?"

"No," Kelce protests with a glare.

"Are we getting shit-faced tonight?" Topper looks around, asking all of you.

"Hell yes!" Kelce explodes.

"I'm not," Rafe speaks up, "I have to get this one home."

He tightens his grip around you as if it's a good reference of who he's talking about. He ignores Kelce's groan and Topper pretending to throw up, just smiling away down at you under his arm. This has been his dream forever. He's not going to ruin it.

Not if he can help it.

"Y/N? Shit-faced?" Topper questions, raising his eyebrow at you.

"I don't think so, Top," you reply, watching him groan.

"You two are so lame. When you start dating, you better not go all fetal on me, Cameron."

"We are," Rafe informs him, trying to suppress the grin threatening to form on his face, "Dating, I mean."

"What?" Topper gasps.

"Aw, damn it!" Kelce groans, "That means I lost my shot with Y/N?"

You laugh when Rafe pulls his hand from around you momentarily to shove Kelce the same way Topper had earlier. When he returns his arm around you, his grip is tighter.

"You never had a shot with Y/N," Rafe snaps at him.

"Hey, man, I told you the same thing when you were fifteen. Don't underestimate me."

"Oh, my God," Rafe mumbles, low enough that the other two can't hear, "I might have to get shit-faced if he keeps putting that image in my head."

"You have nothing to worry about, Rafe," you whisper in response.

He bites the inside of his bottom lip to hide his smile, "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple, letting it linger before he pulls himself away. Everything feels right to him. For the first time in a long time.

A few hours and many drinks later, Topper and Kelce are gone. You'd been laughing at their antics for so long that your chest was starting to hurt. You'd had more than a couple drinks, but didn't feel as bad, or as good, as the boys. Rafe only had two, citing being the driver as his excuse.

The four of you found yourselves standing about ten feet from the outside bar, which you had done on purpose when Topper and Kelce asked to move so they could get drinks faster. You start to feel Rafe's impatience; his way of telling you he's ready to go is to stand behind you with his hands on your hips, slightly and nonchalantly moving your body against his. He hasn't given you a real kiss in hours and he's starting to feel it.

"Do you think we should take them home?" you turn your body around, making Rafe groan. The last thing he wants to do is stare at the lips he can't kiss for hours right now.

"No," he grunts, "That will ruin every plan I have for when we get back to the truck."

You feel your stomach twist in a good way, smiling at him as you try to read his thoughts. You're sure you already know what they are.

"I'm serious, they're really drunk."

"I will call them a car, then. Those two idiots are not ruining my night."

You shake your head at him, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him down for a kiss. He groans before he lets you kiss him, knowing it's going to hurt to stop. John B and Sarah walk by right then to go to the bar, but you don't notice. The mixture of the alcohol and Rafe's kisses have you feeling more lightheaded than ever.

"I can't believe you're my boyfriend now, Rafe Cameron," you tease him, "You taste like a mai tai."

"And that's a wrap on the drinks for you," he mutters, moving your glass to the other side of the table behind you.

"I'm not drunk."

"I didn't say you are," he counters.

"Just because I had drinks doesn't make me drunk," you continue, "If anything, you make me feel drunk."

"I make you feel drunk?" he laughs, "Okay, I'm saying it, now. You're drunk."

"I mean it, Rafe," you mumble, smoothing out his tie, "Can I have another kiss?"

"Please never stop asking me that question," he says quietly, leaning down and kissing you against your smile.

"I'm not drunk," you say, more authoritative this time, after he pulls away, "Just happy."

He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "Me, too, baby."

Your eyes flutter closed, soaking in the perfection of this moment. Rafe sighs contently, squeezing hold of your hand. You can hear Kelce and Topper arguing over their fantasy football drafts about two feet away, but you don't mind.

You hear something crash at the bar, making you jump. When you turn to see what it was, you find Scott pressed up against the bar, looking like he'd just been shoved. John B stands about three feet away, chest heaving. Your entire body tenses, but before you can even move, Rafe's already on his way over there.

"Top, stay with her," Rafe commands, pointing to you before he takes off running to the bar.

Topper stands, setting a hand on your arm when you try to follow your boyfriend.

"Y/N-"

"Do not try to play knight in shining armor right now, Top. Let go of me."

He does as you say, taking note of the serious look in your eye. He follows you over to the bar silently, stumbling only once. Rafe's now standing beside Scott, trying his best to pull your furious brother away from the scene.

"Scott," you speak up, stepping over to your boyfriend and your brother, "What the hell is going on?"

"Topper," Rafe demands over you, "I told you to fucking stay with her!"

You turn to Rafe, "Why are you acting like that?"

"I told you he's a fucking tool, Y/N."

John B's voice rings through your ears. You swallow and glance at your brother, trusting that he has every reason to be as angry as he is. You spin around on your heel, glaring at your ex-boyfriend.

"What did you say to Scott?" you ask him, keeping your voice calm.

"The truth," John B shrugs.

You glance at Sarah, who seems to be enjoying this entire thing. A crowd has seemed to gather, and you're almost amazed your parents haven't come outside.

"Which is?" you press.

"John B," Rafe speaks up, his voice pleading, "Don't."

You turn, just for a second, and observe the expression on Rafe's face. It's desperate, scared. You turn back to John B, sure you'll force the answer out of him.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Scott speaks behind you, "Let's just go."

"No," you say, not bothering to turn around, "I want to know what the hell everyone's so riled up about. What did you tell him, John B?"

When John B hesitates, Sarah steps over and wraps both of her arms around one of his. She has a cold look in her eyes as she stares at you, smirk very present on her lips.

"He told Scott that Rafe got fired because he was doing drugs, and the only reason Rafe was doing drugs was because of you."

Your lips part as you open your mouth to take a deep breath, trying your hardest to process what Sarah had just said. You'd grown up with Rafe, you'd gotten the 'drugs are bad' discussion with Rafe sitting beside you, flicking your arm to make you mad. He wouldn't do drugs. And even if he did, what the hell did that have to do with you?

"You're such a bitch, Sarah," Rafe says behind you, his voice full of defeat.

"Maybe," she shrugs, "But at least I didn't push a guy into snorting lines off of daddy's financial paperwork."

You swallow, eyes moving to the ground. The alcohol, the overwhelming emotions you've been through today, all of it, feels like too much all of the sudden. Scott comes up behind you and gently grabs your arm, taking in your expression.

"I'm gonna take my sister home," Scott announces, more so to Rafe than anyone else.

Sarah drags John B away, knowing their work is done. You don't pull your eyes up to watch them go, or to look at your boyfriend. You just start walking, knowing Scott will follow.

"Y/N, hey, wait, let me explain-" Rafe tries, but Topper sets his hand on Rafe's chest to stop him.

"Not like this, Rafe, come on," Topper starts. Rafe shoves Topper forcefully, making him almost lose his balance.

"Get the fuck off me," Rafe snaps at him.

"Stop," you tell him, your voice emotionless. Scott stops walking when you do, standing beside you as if he's your bodyguard, "Please, Rafe. Just stop."

He takes one step toward you, stopping when Scott levels him with a glare.

"Sweetheart, please. Let's go somewhere and talk, and if you want me to take you home I will. I don't want to end the night like this. Please."

You swallow and sigh, staring at the pleading boy. After everything the two of you have been through, you know you owe him this. You also really, really don't want Sarah Cameron to win. Rafe deserves better than that.

"All right," you agree weakly.

Rafe sighs in relief, taking another step but dropping his arms when you don't reach for him.

"Are you sure?" Scott asks you.

You nod, "Yes. Don't tell Mom and Dad about this."

He nods in agreement, and does not object when you reach up and tighten his tie around his neck. He looks better, like nothing ever happened. You turn to Rafe, heart sinking at his lonely expression. You reach for his hand, more so as a way to comfort him. You're still hesitant about Sarah's words.

He takes your hand immediately, wanting nothing more than to wrap himself around you. He leads you off the deck and through the reception hall, out to the parking lot. He slows once he sees the truck, as he has to try and figure out what the hell he's going to say.

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*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[blu-joons]

When He Comes Home To Find You And Your Child Asleep On The Sofa ~ SF9 Reaction

Inseong:

A gasp came from Inseong as his phone slipped out of his grip, the bang it made enough to make you jump, let alone you and your son who were asleep on the sofa too.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Inseong panicked, sighing as he looked back around to where the sofa was.

Your head shook with a chuckle at the look of fear that was on Inseong’s face. “I think daddy’s home,” you joked with your son’s wide smile.

“I was trying too hard to be quiet,” Inseong told you both, placing everything in his hands down, moving towards you.

“You should know how clumsy you are Inseong.”

His head nodded in agreement with you, “for some reason I was feeling pretty confident then.”

“At least now we don’t have to spend the night on the sofa,” you joked, slowly trying to sit yourself up, holding onto your son as he moved up with you.

A chuckle came from your son as he moved up. “Silly daddy,” he laughed across at Inseong, catching him off guard as a chuckle came from Inseong too.

“I just wanted to wake you up and see you,” Inseong tried to tell him, tickling against your son’s stomach.

“You definitely did a good job of waking us both up.”

Youngbin:

The sound of the television playing had Youngbin confused as he walked through into the apartment, following the sound through where he found you both.

“You two,” he whispered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the remote tucked between you both.

His hand slowly reached to grab the remote, and as it did, it tickled against your daughter’s stomach. “Mmh,” she hummed, slowly shifting in your hold.

“Go back to sleep Y/D/N,” Youngbin tried to tell her, but the sound of his voice quickly had her awake and looking around.

“Daddy, we didn’t know when you would be home.”

Youngbin smiled back across at you, “whispers Y/D/N, we don’t want to disturb mummy there.”

“Whispers,” she agreed, lowering the volume of her voice as Youngbin switched the television off too. “Daddy,” she added, stretching her arms out across to him.

He immediately moved across and lifted her up, bringing her tightly into his chest. “Have you been squishing your mummy whilst you’ve been sleeping?”

“No,” she giggled as Youngbin began to walk her towards her bedroom, “mummy was cuddling me really tightly.”

“She does that to me too, it’s because she loves us Y/D/N.”

Jaeyoon:

The feeling of something moving over your body made you stir, opening your eyes in confusion as to what was going on, only to see that it was Jaeyoon hovering over you.

“Sorry,” he whispered as soon as he noticed your open eyes, “I thought I’d make you comfier.”

Your head shook, relieved to see that he was home and safe. “I’ve tried reaching for that blanket so many times but Y/S/N’s laying right over my hand.”

“Now that you’re awake, why don’t we put him to bed, and you?” Jaeyoon offered, “you can’t spend the night on the sofa.”

“My body is numb from where he’s been laying on me.”

A chuckle escaped from Jaeyoon, “it’s a good job you’ve got my strong arms to help you then.”

“I’m too tired to appreciate your muscles,” you warned Jaeyoon as he placed the blanket back before slowly lifting your son up, making sure not to disturb him.

His head nodded understandingly back across at you, “stay right there and I’ll come and get you in a moment. We’ll try and wake that body of yours back up.”

“Remind me to never let Y/S/N sleep on me again,” you joked, “when did he get so big and start weighing so much?”

“Don’t, it’s scary how quick he’s growing these days.”

Dawon:

The sound of footsteps woke you up straight away, coming face to face with Sanghyuk as soon as your eyes looked around, catching the smirk that was wide on his face.

“I thought you said that you’d wait,” he smugly reminded you, knowing that you wouldn’t last.

Your head nodded back across at him, “I’ve had my eyes shut for five minutes,” you tried your best to tell him, “maybe ten at the very most Sanghyuk.”

“Your expression tells me you’ve been asleep for at least an hour,” he laughed, “your eyes still look incredibly sleepy Y/N.”

“I’m fine, Y/D/N’s the one that’s been sleeping for a while.”

Sanghyuk’s head shook back at you, “you can’t throw our daughter under the bus like that.”

“I only closed my eyes because she did,” you tried to defend, “it’s not my fault that you’re home later than you said you would be anyway, that’s on you.”

Sanghyuk nodded as he knelt down beside the two of you, “now that I’m finally home, you can sleep properly. I’ll take of Y/D/N whilst you get yourself sorted.”

“Don’t wake her,” you warned Sanghyuk, “I have a feeling she won’t be a happy bunny if she ends up being disturbed.”

“I’m a pro at putting Y/D/N to bed, I’ve got this Y/N.”

Zuho:

He couldn’t help but feel guilty as Juho returned home to find you and your son asleep together, both out like a light, not disturbed at all by him finally returning home.

“I don’t want to disturb you both,” Juho sighed, knowing that your beds were where you should be.

His footsteps were almost silent as he walked around the place, “I wish that I was able to get home sooner to at least be able to wish you both goodnight.”

“I bet you had fun without me though,” he sniggered, “mummy always lets you do whatever you want to do, doesn’t she Y/S/N?”

“Who am I kidding? You’re asleep, you’re not replying.”

Juho placed a cushion underneath your head gently, “you’ll be so sore in the morning Y/N.”

“I don’t have the heart to move you and risk waking you up though,” he added, hoping that somehow, you’d be listening and know he meant well.

He couldn’t remember the last time that he had been so quiet, “how can I go to bed and sleep comfortably knowing that the two of you are out here?”

“Maybe I’ll sleep down here on the floor,” Juho suggested, noticing a space in the room that would fit him perfectly.

“At least then I’ll be here when you both wake up.”

Rowoon:

The smile on Seokwoo’s face turned up as soon as he walked through into the living room to find you and your daughter tucked up beside one another, laid out across the sofa.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late,” Seokwoo told you both, frowning at how comfortable you both were.

His voice wasn’t as quiet as he hoped though as your eyes slowly opened up. “Your home?” You asked Seokwoo, your voice making him jump in surprise.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he told you, moving across the room to kneel down beside the sofa where the two of you were.

“I had a feeling that filming might have gone on a bit.”

Seokwoo smiled sweetly back across at you, “I should have let you know that I’d be late though.”

“I’d have probably slept through your text anyway,” you gently chuckled, “I think the two of us have probably been asleep here for a couple of hours at least.”

Seokwoo’s hand rested against your daughter’s hip, “I don’t think anything will be able to wake her up, she looks like she’s in a pretty good dream right now.”

“She fell asleep as soon as she laid down on me,” you told him. “Clearly I must be comfortable to use as a pillow.”

“I can definitely tell you that you’re great to rest on.”

Yoo Taeyang:

As soon as he found the two of you asleep on the sofa, Taeyang moved across the room and lifted your son up, noticing just how uncomfortable you seemed to be on the sofa.

“You two are adorable,” Taeyang laughed as he slowly moved your arms away to be able to get him.

The sudden feeling of emptiness between your arms was enough for you to stir. “Taeyang?” You quizzed, lifting your hands up to rub over the top of your eyes.

“It’s just me,” he smiled back across at you, “I thought I’d do you a favour and put Y/S/N to bed, and then come back for you.”

“I want to hear how work was for you today though.”

His head shook back across at you, “you’re tired Y/N, all of those stories can wait until tomorrow.”

“I thought we’d be able to stay awake for you to come home,” you explained to Taeyang, but from the smile that was on his face, you knew that he didn’t mind.

His quiet steps slowly began to move towards your son’s bedroom, “stay there and I’ll come back and get you tucked up into bed,” he told you once again.

“You’re not planning on carrying me to bed, are you?” You laughed, catching the corners of Taeyang’s smile turning up.

“You’re tired because you waited, it’s the least I can do.”

Hwiyoung:

A sigh came from Youngkyun as he looked across to the sofa to see your daughter’s eyes looking back at him, disturbed by the sound of his footsteps through the room.

“Daddy?” She quizzed, not quite sure who was there as her eyes tried to focus on the room.

Youngkyun quickly moved across to the sofa, kneeling down slowly. “What are you doing awake?” He whispered to her, careful not to disturb you as you still slept.

“Your home,” she giggled, wriggling out of your grip, stretching her hands out for Youngkyun to take her and give her a squeeze.

“We don’t want to wake mummy up, be careful.”

Your daughter nodded in agreement with him, “mummy fell asleep before I did tonight daddy.”

“Did she now?” Youngkyun quietly chuckled, making sure that he didn’t forget the information that she’d just shared with him, knowing that he could use it against you.

Your daughter’s smile grew as Youngkyun stood up and moved around the room, “do I have to go to bed now that your home?” She asked him with a sigh.

“I reckon you can stay up for a little while,” he grinned, “but you have to promise that you don’t tell mummy that I let you stay up.”

“I promise that I won’t tell her, it’s our secret.”

Chani:

Your eyes opened instinctively as you heard the password be entered to your apartment, opening your eyes to spot Chanhee walking in, tiptoeing around the room.

“Hi,” he whispered, noticing your open eyes looking back across at him from the sofa in the room.

You smiled back at Chanhee, careful not to disturb your son who was asleep on top of you. “Are you alright?” You asked him, noticing just how late it was from the clock.

“Are you?” Chanhee asked you, moving carefully across to the sofa, “how long has he been asleep on you like that? Does it not hurt?”

“He’s as light as anything, I hardly know he’s here.”

Chanhee smiled gently back across at you, “do you want me to take him? I can put him to bed.”

“If you want to,” you replied to Chanhee, “whilst you do that, I can make you some food if you want? I bet you’ve not eaten for a while if you’ve been busy rehearsing Y/N.”

Chanhee’s head shook back at you as he picked up your son, “you’re tired too, you don’t need to make food for me. I can just grab something easy from the fridge.”

“Are you sure?” You quizzed, slowly sitting yourself up once your son was lifted from you, “I really don’t mind helping Chanhee.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re sleepy and I’ll be alright.”

---

Masterlist

[lonely-lost-soul]

“I’m Not Soft.”

Request 5: Techno and the voices simping for the reader, maybe after reader gets in (and wins) a fight or something more domestic like farming or playing with Steve

Requested By: Anonymous 

(Technoblade X Female Reader)

~Added a little bit of spice~

Technoblade kicked the snow off his boots sending little flurries all inside the doorway of his cabin. He had just arrived home, he was coming home much later than he anticipated getting held up at a long-running syndicate meeting. He was greeted by the savory smell of baked potatoes and steak, it had him practically drooling. Techno wandered into the kitchen after hanging up his cloak by the door, his plate was sitting in the furnace. He peeked inside and saw it was set on low heat just to keep his food warm, he smiled softly. 

‘She’s so thoughtful. Keeping it warm for us. We should give her a kiss! Where even is she? Find her before you eat. You can sit together!’ 

Technoblade let out a soft hum of acknowledgment listening to the advice of the voices and searching for his lady love. He stepped into the living room and noticed the fire was roaring away in the fireplace, you were still here then, very early on he made sure you knew to put the fireplace out when you were finished in the room. He had a close call with Tommy when he was living here, and since then he made sure to remind you constantly about the fireplace. He spotted you and Steve curled up next to one another by the said fireplace, you were buried in his white fur and he was snoring away loudly beside you. A book was in your lap and you were wearing one of his shirts as a pajama top, socks with little bears on them adorned your feet. 

‘Oh my god, they’re so cute together. Take a picture! Take a picture! She looks so peaceful…’

Technoblade smiled gently making sure he did end up snapping a picture, just so he could tease you about it later. Plus you were adorable and you snuggling with Steve really melted his frozen heart, 

‘SIMP!’ 

     “You guys are doing the same thing shut up.” He growled under his breath finally walking over to you, Steve cracked his eyes open and let out a low snarl before comprehending who stood in front of him. Once he recognized The Blade he let out a disgruntled huff before falling back asleep, his movement caused you to stir. Technoblade watched as you rub the sleep from your eyes, before running your hands through your messy hair. “Morning Princess,” He cooed squatting down beside you. You blinked blearily at him for a moment before a smile lit up your face, you moved quickly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile in response to the hug, his hands were placed on his lower back as he squeezed.

‘So small and cute. Just like a little kitten.~ Can you give her a kiss now? I’m tired of asking for a kiss just do it. Stop making him sound like a simp. Wait look she’s pulling away-’

You pressed a kiss to his lips murmuring a weak, ‘welcome home Protesilaus.’ He shivered a little at the use of his Greek title and gave you a kiss back. 

     “Did you make me dinner?” You hummed nodded your head sleepily, “You spoil me, Princess.” He cupped your cheek with his hand and you nuzzled into it, you looked blissful. 

     “Only cause you deserve it, big guy. Want me to sit with you while you eat.” 

     “If you’re up for it.” Another kiss was pressed against the side of his lips and he purred fondly. You giggled a little and he flushed darkly, “Don’t laugh at me that’s cringe.”

     “Not laughing at you, I just love it when you purr. You’re like a big lion, who’s only soft for me.” He scoffed with an eye roll, 

     “I’m soft to no one.” 

     “Sure you’re not Tech.” You gently pat his cheek before standing up and cracking your back, Technoblade stood up beside you. The both of you walked into the kitchen, you sat at the table while he grabbed his meal. He dug in and his eyes fluttered, 

     “This is so good, god I’m so glad you’re my girlfriend.” 

     “Just for the cooking?” You teased fluttering your eyes at him and he looked thoughtful for a moment, 

     “Well, that and the great se-” You let out an indignant sound interrupting his sentence you went so red it even spread to your ears. Technoblade laughed loudly, “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered,” a smirk spread across his lips. 

‘We got her. Oh my god, she’s so cute. Awwww she’s embarrassed what a sweetheart. You should pinch her cheeks. Show her what we mean- DON’T BE GROSS. He was gross first though!’

     “You’re a terror,” You scoffed fanning your hot face with your hand trying to cool yourself down. 

     “Exactly and don’t you forget it, Princess.” He had a soft pink flush across his cheeks as you flipped him off, “Maybe later.”

     “Techno!” You squawked as he roared with laugher, “What is with you tonight!?”

     “I just missed you. I’ve been away from you all day can you blame me?”

     “I suppose not…” You trailed off smiling softly over at him and he smiled right back at you. “I’m going to head to bed, you coming or what?”

     “I’m right behind you.” He hummed placing his plate in the sink before following you up the stairs. 

The next morning was dedicated solely to you, not only because Technoblade wanted to but also because the voices just wanted to stay close to you. Your head was tightly tucked underneath his chin as he watched you sleep. The rise and fall of your chest was hypnotic and he placed his hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat flutter against his hand. He smiled watching you wake up for a second time with a sweet yawn, he kissed your nose as you regained consciousness. You snickered softly giving him a kiss right back, “Morning Techno.” 

     “Morning Princess,” He greeted, “I was wondering if you wanted to walk Steve with me today.”  

     “I’d love nothing more,” you smiled warmly “on one condition.”

     “And that would be?” Technoblade raised an eyebrow, his hand gently stroking your hip. 

      “I get to wear your cape.” His face scrunched up with disgust, 

      “My cape is sacred, you know this.”

      “I promise I’ll take really good care of it. Please for your wonderful and stunning girlfriend.” 

      “Eh?” He muttered as you batted your eyelashes at him, and despite his original distaste the voices melted seeing your face. 

‘She’s so cute. Adorable, look at those big ole eyes. Tell her she’s cute! Love of our life truly. She’s a teasing little shit ain’t she? Let her wear the cape, what's the harm?’

       “Cringe,” Technoblade said instead and the voices groaned loudly in his ears, he watched your face settle into a pout. He clicked his tongue annoyed at your pout, “come or don’t either way I gotta walk Steve- oof-“ Technoblade grunted as you sat down on his hips glaring at him. 

      “Give me the cape now.” You glared into his eyes, hands gripping onto his shoulders, his eyes lit up with amusement. 

     “Oh, you taking charge here Princess? I don’t mind if you think you can handle me.” The voices and he relished in the way your entire face turned red and you rested your forehead on his neck. 

    “You’re impossible but I’m still taking your fucking cape cringe-lord.”

     “Nerd.” He mused with a fond kiss to your lips, “but fine. I suppose you can borrow it.” Technoblade relented with a small smile, as your entire face lit up like the sun. 

‘Worth it. That smile! Be still my heart! She’s going to look so adorable. Trust us Techno you made the correct choice.’

He rolled his eyes and watched you tilt your head to the side, “The voices?” Technoblade gave a little nod. 

      “They’re being stupid.”

‘STUPID! FUCK OFF! WE’RE HELPING YOU SCORE!’

      “What’re they saying?” 

Sweat gathered on Technoblade’s brow, well now he couldn’t say they were complimenting you. He’d look like such an asshole. 

        “Nothing important.” He tried to cover himself up quickly and you gave a little smirk of your own. “Shut up don’t-“

       “Aw, do they like me?~” You cooed pinching the man’s cheek. “I love them too, they’re a part of you after all.” Now it was Technoblade’s turn to flush red all over if the voices weren’t gushing before they were now. 

‘Kiss her oh my god kiss her. We love her too! Tell her that right now! She needs to know! Bark bark bark bark! Everyone here is a simp. I’m the only one with a brain cell. Technooooooo tell her pleaaaaaseeeee.’

      “They Ugh...they want me to tell you they love you too.” He watched you smile again, “they also want me to give you a kiss.”

       “Well tell them I accept their kiss.”

       “Oh, they know sweetheart believe me.” He leaned forward to capture your lips, he felt you sigh pleasantly against them. His hands moved down to rest on your hips, rubbing gentle circles on them. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss but you pulled away from him, he let out a growl of disagreement. 

        “Oh hush up you grump. We have to feed the bears and dogs, plus if we’re walking Steve we need to get going.” 

       “Tease.” He grunted as you whacked him on the chest, before hopping off his lap to get dressed. He followed you out of bed, as the both of you got ready for the day ahead. You finished before Techno and slid down the ladders to whip up a quick breakfast and feed Steve. By the time Technoblade came downstairs, Steve was happily chowing away and you handed Technoblade two slices of bread. He gave you a quick kiss on the side of his head before shoveling the food into his mouth, he heard you giggle and he raised an eyebrow. “What’re you laughing at exactly?”

     “You’re eating like Steve,” Technoblade made an indignant sound of protest which only caused you to laugh harder. Sometimes he genuinely wondered how he put up with you but then he remembered he loved you and wouldn’t trade you for the world. He only rolled his eyes at you before grabbing Steve’s designated leash and hooking him up to it, the bear let out a huff and his little stub of a tail began to wiggle. “Someone’s excited,” You cooed at the bear scratching under his chin, “My big ole sweetheart.”

     “(Y/n) he’s supposed to be a killing machine please don’t coddle him.”

     “Oh fuck off Techno. Look at his face!” You squished the bear’s cheeks between your hands, “he wouldn’t hurt a fly!” The bear rumbled loudly in his throat but it was more of a pleasant sound than a threatening one. Technoblade raised an eyebrow at the antics before him, 

     “Leave our guard bear alone and go put on your boots.” You huffed but ultimately decided not to be a brat and listen to your boyfriend for once, you stood beside the door as Steve and he wandered up towards you. An eyebrow was raised and he looked you up and down, 

     “What?”

     “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He watched you slowly blink before patting the sides of your winter jacket, and he chuckled deeply. He took off his cape and draped it across your shoulders, your face lit up and you snuggled into the fluff. It flowed behind you much more than it did when Technoblade wore it, it was swallowing you up. 

‘She’s so precious! We were correct, good job Techno. Such a good, sweet girl. We’re protecting her from the harsh elements! True! You don’t want her to get sick do you?’

Technoblade snapped out of his thoughts as he felt a soft kiss against the side of his cheek, “Thank you Tech, you made my morning.”

     “Anything for you.”

‘We’d kill for her you know. If anyone even looks at her wrong we’ll tear them apart. Guys, could you lighten up a little? Sheesh. Never she’s our stability.’

     “Shall we?” He held out his arm and you wrapped your hand around it snuggling against his side, he really was down bad for you. The both of you stepped out it was a beautiful sunny day the wind only a gentle chill, Techno grunted as Steve eagerly pulled him forward. He heard you laugh as he stumbled down the steps, he shot you a glare over his shoulder and you flipped him off. 

‘Hot.’ 

Technoblade’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “what the hell chat…” he muttered but the heat he felt in his cheeks showed he agreed with the voices. Once again at his side the two of you walked in the direction of Snow Chester, once you both came to the shoreline Technoblade turned towards you. “Would you like to visit L’manhole someday day soon?”

     “Like you even have to ask me that. I’d love to see the damage you caused.”

‘Our little anarchist in training.~ I for one, Can’t wait for her to join the Syndicate. We don’t want her to remember, we want to protect her. Exactly, her joining could put her at risk.’

     “Then we’ll go soon I promise.” 

     “I look forward to it big guy,” You cooed, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips that sent electricity down to the tips of his toes. He tilted his head deepening the kiss slightly, his hand cupping your cheek, it was so small in his hand. He loved hearing the soft whimper you made against his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth but the moment was shattered as he heard Steve let out a low warning growl. He rapidly pulled away and shoved you behind his back, he came face to face with BadBoyHalo, the egg cult leader himself. “Is that BBH?” 

     “Looks like it,” Techno muttered as you slipped out from behind him, the demon was in his smaller form and he waved enthusiastically. “Careful Princess,” Techno murmured hesitantly, watching him skip over, “remember the egg.” 

     “I got this Tech, no worries. I’ll be back in a moment alright.” You met Bad halfway and Technoblade shuffled uncomfortably. 

‘Don’t let her go. He’s gonna hurt her. Keep a steady eye. She’s not fragile but eavesdrop just in case. Be careful, and keep alert. Blood for the Blood God. Not yet shut up.’ 

Technoblade clicked his tongue but did eavesdrop on their conversation allowing Steve to sniff at the ground nearby for bugs.

     “(Y/n) my little muffin! How’re you doing?” 

     “I’m doing good Bad! I haven’t seen you in a while, how're you doing? Still doing egg stuff?”

     “Of course silly! That’s why I wanted to visit you.” He grabbed your hands, “I need your help.” He grazed his claws across the back of your hands, Techno watched you raise a suspicious eyebrow. 

‘That’s my girl. Always being suspicious and alert.’ He mentally praised, and the voice agreed with his though,

     “And that help would be what exactly?”

     “You need to convince Techno to give the egg a second chance!” You stared at him blankly and Technoblade tried not to laugh. 

     “Bad, you’re one of my good friends but I fucking hate the egg too.” His smile faltered a little bit and Technoblade’s hand went to the sword on his hip. Bad’s smile quickly returned and cupped your cheeks,

     “Language dear.” He scolded his smile turning strained, “this just means I need to introduce you to the egg silly! It’s going to love you,” 

     “Bad No.” He began to squeeze your face, nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks. Your eyes flashed with fear and Technoblade was about to step forward and intervene but skidded to a halt as he watched you knee Bad in the stomach. Technoblade’s jaw fell open, as you grabbed Bad’s arm as he bent over in pain and flipped him over your shoulder slamming his back into the snow and dirt. Bad let out a pained sound, but all Technoblade could focus on was the way his cape flew to the side with a flourish as you recovered. Your hair stuck to your cheeks as you glowered at the demon, “Don’t touch me.” You stood up, looking more regal than Techno’s ever seen you look, “Go home Bad, and don’t come back till you’ve sorted yourself out. This egg thing has really fucked with your head.” You walked back over towards Techno and smirked at him the fire in your eyes still burning bright. You brought a hand towards his face and you closed Technoblade’s jaw with your finger, “You’re going to catch flies babe.” His jaw snapped shut as you winked at him, you took Steve from his hand and began to walk away. 

‘Damn the cape’s covering her ass. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE FOCUSING ON?! SHE JUST FLIPPED BADBOYHALO LIKE HE WAS A SACK OF POTATOES! NO FUCKS GIVEN! Stop screaming you’re too loud. Get me a woman who can flip me like that. God, I love strong women. Techno go make out with her right now don’t let her get away with that! We made the right choice with her, maybe she should join the Syndicate. Yeah but then seeing this side wouldn’t be as special-’

     “Tech you coming?” You called over your shoulder, 

‘Yes ma’am. Anything for you. Such a tease.’

He said nothing but followed in your footsteps, hands twitching at his sides, desperately trying to ignore the way the voices purred and begged for him to make out with you right here in the snow. 

As soon as you removed the collar from around Steve’s neck, and hung it back in it’s place by the door Technoblade pushed you up against the wall. You gave a squeak in surprise that he absolutely relished in, maybe he was a little bit of a sadist. His cape fell from your shoulders with a soft clatter as he roughly pressed his lips to yours, he watched your eyes droop closed before closing his eyes as well. “That was the hottest thing we’ve ever fucking seen,” He growled against your lips hoisting you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist. 

     “We?” You said breathlessly as his kisses moved from your lips and down to your neck, 

     “The voices.” He nipped at the skin between your shoulder and neck, enjoying the way your breath hitched in your throat. 

     “Oh,” was all you managed to get out letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thump. Techno snickered against the burning skin on your neck, you whined a little before meekly murmuring, “Don’t stop. Please Technoblade.” 

‘Well, you heard the little lady. Don’t stop Technoblade. Make her beg some more first. Agreed, that’s what she gets for teasing us after all. Give the girl what she wants already. Who are we to deny her when she looks like that? We live to please one person and that’s her.’

Technoblade panted softly, throughout his life he was never one to deny giving the voices what they wanted. Especially when that something was you.