I LOVE RHIS SO MUCH

🥺 so beautiful

it feels good (to know you’re mine)

synopsis: disheartened by the night he’s had, peter attempts to shift focus on what matters to him most.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

author’s notes: nsfw! the biblical allusions & allegories are heavy here. idk what came over me. brought to u by needy desperate angsty sentimental peter!!!!! the best peter :_)

He’s rocking into you with a tender pace—it’s the sort of night where things could have gone egregiously wrong, but somehow, he had pulled through. And when he crawls home to you, face caked with blood dried from the frostbitten air he had swung through not moments ago, he needs nothing more than to dissipate into the soft crux of your arms, and to feel that you’re there.

Seguir leyendo

summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3

> in which masterlist!

note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺

—

it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.

you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.

“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”

“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”

“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”

“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”

“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.

with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.

minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.

he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.

he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?

he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.

his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.

you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.

he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.

you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.

“this won’t do!”

his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.

jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”

to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.

“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”

but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.

“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.

“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”

“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”

“no one’s stopping you, babe.”

this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.

he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.

he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.

however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.

he groans.

“baaaaby,”

“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.

he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.

“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”

“about?”

“motorcycles…”

“okay,”

“okay?”

bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.

“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”

“okay,” you repeat yourself.

hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.

“are you telling me or are you asking me?”

“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”

“alright then,”

his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”

“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.“

“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”

“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”

“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”

“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”

“i know,”

“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”

“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”

“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”

“three times-”

“oh my god, absolutely not!”

the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.

“twice?”

“you said anyth-”

“please?”

“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”

you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.

“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.

he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.

“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”

he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.

“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”

“i promise!”

“and you won’t get angry at me?“

and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.

“how hard can that possibly be?“

he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.

today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.

he doesn’t.

on the contrary, he is a given a gift.

“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.

he draws back with a playful grin.

thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.

“huh, you don’t mean that.”

“i do!”

“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”

“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”

what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.

“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”

“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”

“really?”

“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”

this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.

you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”

your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.

“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.

“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”

“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”

you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.

“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.

“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.

“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”

a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”

jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.

he releases a burdened sigh.

“why me?!”

—

“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”

“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”

“i said turn around, baby.”

you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.

jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.

“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“

“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”

you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.

you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”

“i was going to surprise you but-”

he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.

“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”

“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”

“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.

you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.

“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”

“but won’t you get cold?”

“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”

it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.

alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.

“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”

cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.

“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”

“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.

damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.

“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”

“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.

“or shorts under it-”

“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”

“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”

you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.

“come back here!”

he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.

“ah, ____!”

“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”

—

“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.

you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”

he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.

“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”

you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”

“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”

“how about let’s wear one each?”

upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.

you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.

“hey! what are you laughing at?”

“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”

“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”

he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”

his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.

cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.

at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.

what a dream come true.

—

it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.

“this is so cool!“ you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.

“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”

a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.

if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.

“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”

the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.

“is it fun?”

“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”

“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”

“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”

while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.

ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.

his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.

“time to hold on again, baby.”

“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.

you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.

in his case, double the thirty.

the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.

jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.

—

it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.

but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.

the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.

“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”

“who broke up?”

he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”

“then why are you pouting?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.

you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”

“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”

he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”

“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”

there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.

“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.

“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.

“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”

he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.

fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?

“and we’ve been together for five years.”

“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”

the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”

he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”

“oh my god, i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.

“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.

“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”

he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.

“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”

if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.

your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.

he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.

“do you see it now?”

he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”

“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”

he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.

“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.

jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.

you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.

you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”

“bastard you’re crazy about,”

“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.

“want to go for a ride?”

“to where?”

“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”

you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.

jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.

“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”

—

from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.

you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.

“baby! what are you doing out here?”

he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.

his heart drops to his stomach.

your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.

“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.

an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.

“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”

you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.

“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”

“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”

“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.

“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.

the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…

“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”

he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.

“see? all good!“

you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.

“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”

he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.

“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”

in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.

his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.

he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.

time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.

“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.

“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”

“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”

“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”

—

you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?

“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”

“why?”

the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.

“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”

you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.

“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.

jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.

“exactly!”

you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.

“it’s not even possible at all now!”

“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”

wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?

“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”

driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.

“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”

“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”

he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.

“before that, i need to tell you something.”

you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.

marry me.

marry me.

“baby…”

“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”

marry me.

when i see the future, i only see you.

“i love you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

Our Little Love part four - mafia/soft Yandere au

So this started out not how it ended..... I tried a thing, it didnt work, it wasn't even in the original plan but Hoseok and his evil gleam made me do it, and after days of crying over it I give up

Trigger warnings: Yandere, mentions of blood and potential murder, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, bondage, theres a knife but no one gets cut, fingering, pussy slapping, oral, love bites, dry humping, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex..... I think that covers it. 10.9K words

“Let’s do an exercise,” you say, glancing around the cafe as the three of you sit in the booth. “A trust exercise”

Yoongi and Jungkook don’t look impressed as your gaze falls onto the approaching waiter that sends a smile and a wave your way. They both tense, glares forming.

“I’m going to go talk to the waiter and you’re not going to blow his brains out,” you state confidently.

“Dove, do you really want to make this quaint little cafe into a crime scene?” Yoongi turns to you with a fake gummy smile, an arm around your shoulder before the waiter reaches the table, tilting his head and blinking a few times innocently.

“It's such a nice place,” Jungkook says under his breath, shuffling closer to you, a possessive hand to your waist. “It would be a shame to stain it with blood.”

You gulp, knowing their threats weren’t half hearted, but roll your eyes at the pair, there goes today's trust exercise.

Since your return, your criminal boyfriends had promised to behave better, become better, and while they were trying it was still very much a push and pull battle. Today you would accept defeat, there was no point in ending an innocent guy's life because your boyfriends woke up extra jealous and grumpy this morning.

“Good morning and welcome to Time To Rise, my name’s Felix, what can I get for you all today?”

You want to wince at the fact he’s addressing you while he speaks, grabbing both Yoongi and Jungkook’s other hands under the table to keep them calm. The lovely waiter startles suddenly but you don’t look up from the table to see why, you don’t see the sadistic evil grins on your boyfriend’s faces that promised endless mindless torture. You give their hands a squeeze, begging wordlessly as your heart rate skyrocketed in worry. Maybe it was a bad idea to get breakfast… As soon as the waiter backs away and turns around the perturbed smiles are gone, displeasure replacing their expressions.

“He keeps looking over here hyung,” Jungkook huffs, his leg becoming restless. You stop holding his hand only to place your palm on his thigh, making him look at you.

“Because two very scary guys acted sketchy while ordering breakfast,” you very carefully defend Felix while simultaneously berating the youngest love of your life lightly with your tone.

Your eyes accidentally meet with the waiters, and immediately you look away before they notice.

“I hope he doesn’t call the police…” you mumble, biting your lip as your worrisome thoughts run away from you.

“He keeps glancing at you darling,” Yoongi notes, leaning into you to murmur in your hair while maintaining eye contact with the man in question.

You groan out in frustration.

“Because even I acted like a complete weirdo and stared at the table when he came over!”

Jungkook sniggers at your whining outburst, the sight poking a hole in his demeanour. He leans his head against yours, the flare of affection making him close the distance as he scrunches his nose against your cheek. You were so cute, how did you have him wrapped around your little finger? You don’t miss the way he was trying to press as much of his body against yours, that hand on your waist squeezing lightly. You push your head back against his, just as affectionately and playfully before rolling your eyes, knowing what he wanted but playing dumb.

“Even still, he should mind his own business,” Yoongi grumbles, eyes becoming more and more like daggers. He smirks a little when finally there’s some realisation in the boy's eyes from your interaction with Jungkook, who was now poking your sides because you hadn’t kissed him yet making you giggle because it tickled. Yes, you were here with both of them, how long did that take to get into this stupid kid’s brain? Was his arm around you not indication enough that you were taken? Or did the pest not care? “Wait till Jimin gets here…”

“You promised no civilians would get hurt this morning before we left,” you remind them, grabbing Jungkook’s arm to stop him for a second as you turned back to address Yoongi. “You don't hurt innocent people, you’re not going to start doing so because of me.”

“But babygirl anyone who looks at you lik-”

“Jungkook, I am not having this conversation again,” you press your finger to his lip with a stern gaze. “Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, no matter how they look at me.”

You internally cringe at your own lecture, but honestly it needed to be said out loud a billion times otherwise it was like talking to a brick wall, it just didn’t get through.

“Yoongi stop staring at him,” you snap.

Instead the shorter ruthless criminal moves his deadset eyes to you, stifling the way the corner of his lips tried to lift in a smirk as you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. To say the past six months of your relationship was turbulent would be an understatement. You had become a ghost of the person you were when the secret of your identity became uncovered. When your betrayal was revealed that you were a detective sent to unravel their syndicate from within, it created insecurities and doubts within you all. You walked on eggshells, your strong demeanour stripped, and with it your relationship.

As much as Yoongi and the others hated to admit it, and never verbally would, the distance of you leaving did you good, it brought you back to your own body and back to them. You were your own person again, the women they all fell irrevocably in love with, obsessed with; their little love. Nothing was going to take you away from them ever again, not even yourself.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you mumble, the pair of them breaking out into amused grins as they rise to follow you.

“No, seriously? It’s the bathroom,” you chastise them both, if you couldn’t teach them the earlier lesson with the waiter, they were going to learn something now. “Sit.”

Finger pointed at the pair and eyes narrowed, they stay in their seats like little wounded untrained puppies with severe attachment issues, convinced you were leaving them forever. Smothering sexy obsessive little boyfriends, they were going to have to learn the hard way, a little bit of distance was good and healthy. Breathing room, you had called it once, and the youngest three had given you aghast looks of disgust.

You chuckle to yourself at the memory in the bathroom of the cafe, the three stalls empty when you had entered. You hear the door open behind you, instantly assuming it was one of the boys, a scolding complaint ready to leave your lips as you turn to the sound with a groan, but you find the last person you ever expected to see.

“Ca-captain…?” You gasp in shock at the figure that snuck in behind you, but the feeling quickly fades when you remember who waited for you outside of this room. “You can’t be here.”

“Y/n,” Suho greets you casually, as if he hadn’t been tailing you for months waiting for an opportunity to talk to you alone. “How are you?”

Memories of your old partners battered body resurface into your mind, the consequence of the last time you revisited your old life blaring like a siren.

“You can’t be seen with me,” you warn him hurriedly, trying to move past him back to the boys. He blocks your path, not touching you but effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“You were my best detective L/n,” he sighs. “You of all people would never get tempted to go rogue, what the hell happened?”

“Suho please,” you beg him, panicking for his safety, sweating as you eyed the door with worry.

“Then Kai turns up black and and blue outside of a hospital without an explanation,” he declares. “And he won’t say a word, and here you are traipsing around with the men you were trying to put away.”

His confusion was apparent, the disgust was thinly veiled. He had taken you and Kai under his wing, the three of you ran that precinct, the day you handed in your resignation was the biggest slap to his face. Everything you had done for your career, the youngest female detective in the country, you were going places and you threw it all away? It made no sense to him. Hell, Suho even admitted if the system wasn’t outdated and sexist as it was, you would’ve made captain a long time before he did. Was that the reason you let all your hard work slip down the drain? Did BTS promise you something he would never be able to? But you were straight as an arrow when it came to your morals, you always had been, what did these monsters dangle under your nose that made you turn?

Your worst fear is materialised when the door creaks open, and your heart stops beating, petrified.

“Heaven, what’s taking you so-”

Jimin had finally joined the three of you, you had threatened to leave without him this morning if he didn’t wake up. He didn’t take you seriously until he heard the front door slam as you left, stumbling out of bed to get ready and join you. When he arrived, he patiently sat with the others at the table for all of two minutes before he decided it had been too long since he had last seen you, and it was a good thing he had.

Jimin’s eyes glaze over in a way that lets you know he only had murder on the brain and nothing more. The second he stalks up to your former boss you snap out of your stupor, side stepping Suho to push your boyfriend back by his chest.

“Jimin stop,” his hands grab your wrists harshly to move you aside, eyes burning a hole through the captain, but you press yourself against him as much as you can to physically stop him, looking up at him desperating searching for a sign of reaching him. “Baby he was just checking on me that was it.”

You see his nostrils flare, the grip on your wrists tighten with your words.

“Let’s just talk it through,” you beg. “Jiminie, you promised…”

That seemed to spark something in him, a flash of conscience passing through his eyes, finally turning to you as you let out a breath of relief. You dare to look in Suho’s way to find a look of realisation and shock there, looking away guiltily as you buried your face in your boyfriend’s neck.

“Captain Kim,” Yoongi’s voice joins you all with confidence and you close your eyes at the sound, praying for everything to please be alright. “I did not expect to find you here in the woman’s bathroom.”

Jimin lets go of you, but the action only makes you grab onto his jacket, pressing yourself closer to him as if you sought him out for comfort. He could read your body language, and while it confused him in this situation, that’s exactly what you were doing. He didn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you, protecting you from your old captain as he began to glare at him again.

“I must have misread the sign,” Suho chuckles emptily. “It must’ve been an easy thing to do since we’ve all found our way here.”

You don’t see him glance behind Yoongi where Jungkook stood, eyes piercing as his fists balled at his sides. The tallest of them chewed his lips to stop himself lunging at the captain of Seoul’s police force, all for your sake. He wondered if you counted this man to be part of the innocent quota, it would be a real shame if you did.

—

Yoongi drove you all back to the house, you had refused to peek out of the juncture of Jimin’s neck, shoulder and chest area during the journey, or even after the interaction, only nuzzling into the shorter male’s skin as your thoughts swam away and you drowned in them. Jungkook had glanced in the rearview mirror at the way his hyung was holding you in his lap. What had that stupid oaf desk jockey said to you to make you like this? He had half a mind to get Yoongi to turn the car around and beat the captain to a pulp for ever putting such a look on your face. What the hell was going on in that head of yours?

Even Yoongi found himself watching you both repeatedly as he drove, worry etched on his features.

“Dove, do you want to tell us what’s going on in that little head of yours?” Yoongi dares to ask but just as he suspected the question makes you sink further into Jimin.

“Little love, can we just appreciate the fact that we didn’t put a bullet through his brain like we wanted to,” Jungkook stated, thinking he was helping. “Even though the way you’re acting is driving us crazy, we’re holding ourselves back for you so please baby talk to us, we’re losing it.”

“Heaven,” Jimin calls for you softly, fingers stroking your arms gently as if it would coax you out. “What did he say?”

You only shake your head against him, unknowingly cementing their doubts and worries. Communication was key when your boyfriends were bordering on the maniacal side, your gesture of “no I don’t want to talk about the situation, I want to bury my head in the sand” badly translated to “no I don’t want to tell you what he said to protect him or because what he said hurt me” and that made their anger surge.

Yoongi’s knuckles gripped the steering wheel as he fought every fibre in his body not to turn the car around and run over the captain of the city of Seoul. His patience had worn thin, it was hanging by a mere atom, the thread had torn to pieces.

“Darling,” his voice was tense and heavy, you could hear it. “What. Did. He. Say?”

There’s a whimper and a sniffle, a stifling sob that has all the men silent in shock with their jaws open for a moment before Yoongi’s rage takes over.

“That’s it!”

The car swerved violently as it turned around to find the Seoul’s syndicate’s next victim.

“No no no!” You cry out through tears, finally breaking away from Jimin’s neck as you beg Yoongi to stop his plans of vengeance. “He didn’t say anything!”

“Then why are you crying!”

“I just didn’t expect to see that part of my life again,” you lie as convincingly as you can, watching their brows furrow with confusion as they try to make sense of your words. “Please just turn around, please! I just want to go home.”

Yoongi sighs as he watches you in the rear view mirror, a loud volatile debate in his head of what he should do. He conceded to the watering eyes begging him, silencing the part of his brain that wanted to skin the captain’s flesh from his bones. He’d save that for another day, whether you allowed it or not. Maybe by then he’d settle for something less drastic so as not to upset you.

—

“Yoongi I can walk,” you mumble into his neck as he carries you back to the house bridal style over the threshold.

“Why?” He scoffs harshly. “So you can run to your room and hide as soon as you step through the door?”

Dammit, he knew you too well. The way you tighten your arms around his neck only confirmed his suspicions, there was no way he was letting you go until they spoke to Namjoon.

Call it an overreaction, call it melodramatic or controlling or whatever, but last time you saw someone from that part of your life it ended with you running away from them and that fear had Yoongi in a chokehold. Yes, he knew their behaviour may have had some part to play in that decision, but in his brain the two events were directly correlated and no amount of reasoning or logic was going to convince him otherwise. The only positive thing he could take away from that interaction with your old boss was they behaved better than what they did when you met your former partner. Although, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret their actions then, only the consequences.

Jungkook and Jimin had sped in front of you both as soon as you parked to find the leader of the world’s biggest syndicate. As Yoongi kicked the front door closed behind him, Namjoon could be seen rushing down the steps with worry, the rest of your boyfriends behind him.

“Little love?”

“What happened?

“Why isn’t he in a body bag hyung?”

Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to voice their concern but Namjoon watches you closely, even though he can’t see your face, he can see the way you’re tensing in Yoongi’s arms. The pair make eye contact, Yoongi nodding at the nonverbal command as he gently places your feet on the ground, your arms stubbornly refusing to let him go.

The others watch as he strokes your arm encouraging you to release him, a hand around your waist to support you against him. He places a swift kiss to your cheek in wordless apology as he takes your wrist in his hand pulling you away so you're forced to face Namjoon’s hard stare.

There’s a palpable pause in the room as they take your features in, the obvious signs that you had been crying evident for them all to see, which they do with shock initially, jaws opening before they clench close in fury.

“What did he say little love?” Hoseok’s anger was always the worst, he took it out on anyone around him like a bomb, or a fire uncontained.

“Where are we burying him?” Taehyung eyes pierce through you, his gaze fixed on your tear stained cheeks, his expression and voice void of emotion as his rage ran deep. He was going to bury the fucker alive, he was going to watch him drown in the dirt slowly, painfully, crying and begging for his own life.

Jin takes a step towards you but a hand on his shoulder stops him, Namjoon’s stare doesn’t falter when he takes the step instead, offering you his hand as Yoongi lets go of your wrist so you can take it. You don’t straight away, looking up at him hesitantly, trying to gauge his thoughts, trying to come up with a way to diffuse the situation without revealing your innermost insecurities and saving Suho’s life.

You let out a shaky sigh before placing your hand in his, his grip comforting but firm as he takes you to the living room, the place they brought you to after everything was revealed. It was also a place where Namjoon gave you what you called the debriefing of your punishments, and you feared this was what was happening now. Your thoughts seemed to be heading in the right direction because Namjoon sat on the couch where those occurrences took place, looking up at you expectedly as he had multiple times before. Your nerves tingle with worry, you knew why he was doing this, the position of your debriefs had you vulnerable, on his lap with his eyes focused on you. You couldn’t lie to him or hide from him here and you both knew it.

“Joonie,” you whispered in protest, pulling your hand away but his grip tightened. He doesn’t say a word, patient and expectant as ever, rubbing small soothing circles on the skin he held with his thumb as you tried to calm your spiking anxiety. You might’ve associated the situation with being in trouble, but it was supposed to be a safe place too, Namjoon had always wanted that, and in the beginning it was. The recent events may have scuppered the behavioural link he worked so hard to build into you, but that was his fault, he would admit it.

He tugs your hand gently when you’re still hesitant, watching you take deep breaths before taking the plunge and bringing your thighs to either side of his, straddling him as his hands find your waist. He lets you look away from him, lets you find your bearings, waiting patiently for your eyes to find his.

As soon as you look into those deep brown eyes you try to look away but he isn’t having it, there isn’t any room for regression in your relationship. His fingers grip your chin so you have no choice but to face him, your eyes focusing on his lips until he squeezes hard.

That’s better, he thinks when your eyes settle on his, the vulnerability in them increasing tenfold as each second passes as he expected. You always let your anxiety fill the silence, you had a fear of it for some reason, as if you thought if someone wasn’t talking they were thinking bad things about you, judging you, and if you spoke you could stop those thoughts from ever forming. It was a childish practice but it worked in his favour.

This time however, you were adamant about keeping your lips sealed, he could see it. The others had come to stand around you both, Hoseok sitting in the chair behind you like he normally did during your debriefs, making sure you understood whatever lesson they had to teach.

“He didn’t say anything,” you finally breathe to defend Suho, despising yourself for not being able to keep your emotions in check when any misunderstanding caused by them could result in serious consequences. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was looking for answers, you could understand that, you just prayed they would too.

“I know the Captain has been tailing you little love,” Namjoon admits, an eyebrow raised as if you were questioning his intellect. He brings your face closer to his inspecting the shock on your face by his revelation, he was by no means an idiot.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mumble.

“What good would it have done?” he asks.

“We don’t keep secrets,” you repeat his words to him from ages back, hurt that he didn’t feel the need to tell you your old life was chasing you.

“You’re keeping one now,” Jungkook scoffs from where he’s standing behind the couch, leaning on his hands, looking away when Namjoon shuts him up with a glare.

“I’m a reasonable man, little love,” the leader of the syndicate states as matter of fact, “I can understand why your old captain was interested as to why his best detective would join forces with the most heinous criminals the country has to offer…”

He chuckles, dimples forming on his soft cheeks as if he were harmless, and his words were fiction. He knows he’s tailed his own men for less, any whiff of betrayal and the barrel of his gun follows until it finds proof.

“...what I don’t understand is how he got to you.”

Any trace of his gentle tone is gone and replaced with a hard stare, the words aimed at Yoongi and Jungkook who began shuffling uncomfortably, but you received the look in his eyes. With his jaw clenched and eyes burning, it was easy to see why so many of their enemies screamed with fear as they begged for their lives in front of this man, how many of them tried to run away at the sight. And the worst part was you knew, you were only seeing a fraction of the terror he could induce.

“Or your reaction to whatever it is he supposedly didn’t say.”

“Why did you cry little love?” Jin can’t help asking softly, watching your features. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, he knew that was why Namjoon was questioning you here, why he commanded their silence with his eyes when he took your hand. Unfortunately the slip had a domino effect.

“Did you miss him? Taehyung almost spits, eyes narrowing on your form.

“It didn’t look like a heartwarming reunion from where I was standing,” Jimin scoffs, arms crossed, annoyance written over his angelic features. His foot taps impatiently, wanting you out with it, whatever it was causing your heartache.

They had to know, how did you not understand that yet, anything that affected you, anything to do with you, they had to know. When they didn’t it felt like an unsettling itch from within that they just couldn’t reach, something so out of their control it flared their darker sides, their anger and malice. Whatever it took to satisfy that itch.

The trance Namjoon enveloped you under, where you believed it was just you and him, shattered with their words. You felt their penetrating stares pierce you over and over, the feeling of panic rising in you like a wave, exactly what the man still holding your chin in his hand wanted to avoid.

He sighs, his plan gone to waste. So much for trying patience, unfortunately he would have to rely on his more underhanded tactics. He sends the other heads of his syndicate glares and they disgruntledly back off before he turns his attention back to you.

Focus on me baby, he strokes your hair, you resembled a deer in headlights, spooked and frozen. He could feel your heart racing, it was beating so loud and hard against your chest that it reverberated to every inch of your skin. He would’ve loved to have met you as a detective in the interrogation room, would have loved to see you in action. Your ferocity, tenacity, he knew what you were capable of, he just revelled in the fact it all melted away so easily with them.

He chuckles lightly at the way your breath catches, the way your eyes are searching his, he keeps them soft, luring you into a sense of security, false or otherwise. He pulls you forward and traps you in a kiss, groaning as you press back and open your mouth for him. Any notion of ever losing you would be cut like a cord before it ever formed. When they held you in their arms like this, they would burn cities for you should you ask it, they would beat any living thing that ever dared touch their little love.

He smirks when you whine as he releases you, wanting to feel flattered but knowing you probably guessed your time was up the moment you both parted. You would have to give in soon, there was never going to be another outcome that they would accept. His lips still touch yours as you chase them, the vice grip on your chin keeping you still. Namjoon knew exactly how to torture all of his victims, including you.

“You can tell me dove…” he murmurs against your lips. “Or I can pass you over to Hoseok and the others… you remember how that went last time.”

You suck in a breath of shock, the ghost of pleasure and pain jolting through you at the memory. The men all watch you swallow, a dark glint in their gazes as their eyes trace from your neck to your waist and thighs. Jungkook pulls down the top of his t-shirt, the material too close to his neck now that he felt the room suddenly heat up. He subtly, slowly, so not to attract attention, presses his crotch to the back of the couch as he watches you take in Namjoon’s words, a sadistic part of him hoping you would stay quiet. He grips on to the headrest, a small uncontrolled roll of his hips as he remembers the sounds that came out of your mouth that night, they way they echoed in his head now. The veins popping in his arms catches your sight, your eyes tracing them up to his fucked out expression. You can’t breathe.

“Or maybe you want that,” Namjoon laughs, amused by your stupor, calling for your attention.

You shake your head desperately in disagreement, pushing back on his chest to gain some distance, but his hand only shackles around your wrist, chaining you to him.

“This is taking too long,” Hoseok states irritatedly, the undertone of wanting to move things along in his direction heard by the others.

“I need a minute,” you plead, head bowed from their lust filled gazes, trying to get your breathing back under control, but they were having none of it.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon calls him forward, handing over the reins, enjoying your expression of utter surprise and betrayal. He was going to be patient, he promised himself he would be, but each second you kept your mouth closed made their worry spike. “Times up little love.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see his domineering aura, you could feel it creep up your back, sending shivers up your spine as he approached. The hunter stalking the deer. His arm wraps around your middle, hoisting you up from Namjoon’s lap, carrying you to his bedroom, the others following and trying their hardest to stifle their glee. You very feebly try to push his arm away, unable to find your voice. A part of you knew it was best to be docile, to not fight back, your body remembering the pulsating plethora of pain and pleasure from last time.

The second your feet touch the floor, you’re pushed back onto his bed, landing on your butt with a bounce.

“Taehyung, rope,” he extends his hand out to the younger male, kneeling down in front of you and pushing you flat on the bed with his other hand. He hovers above you, face inches from your own, the rope tauntingly waved in your peripherals.

“Still not going to say a word, love?” he asks, an eerie calm in his eyes.

You shake your head no in reply, voice still caught in your throat.

“So you understand the consequences?” He was giving you a chance to end it before it began, in his own way he was asking for your consent, the choice was yours to make, the only thing they wouldn’t let you decide was whether or not you would tell them. The question wasn’t if you would spill whatever secret you were keeping in your chest, it was when, and if you tortured them with the length of the reveal, they would return the favour in their own manner.

You nod, accepting your fate, jaw set to stubborn. He tsks loudly, the rope tracing your cheeks almost like caress.

“Do you understand the consequences, little love?” he repeats himself, voice harder than it was before.

“Yes,” it's quiet but firm, the second it's out a grin breaks out on his face, but it doesn’t reach the promise in his eyes.

—

Hoseok’s bed was made for moments like this, you lying spread eagle, each limb tied to each post as their eyes devoured your form. Eight bodies in his room all under his control, unless Namjoon decided to intervene, but he wouldn’t let the possibility of that sour where his plans were heading.

He could see your hands pull at the rope, your muscles tensing as you still refused to speak, but it didn't matter anymore, they had all night to extract the information from you.

“Hyung stop teasing us, the dress next,” Jungkook whined as Yoongi took his time with you.

The aforementioned male was currently under instruction to undress you with his knife. He had already discarded the tights, kissing everywhere his blade traced carefully. He would never cut you, not his darling, even if the others liked to play rough sometimes, within reason. He was already eyeing your wrists and ankles with distaste, but this was Hoseok’s domain, he would berate him later if you got hurt in any way.

“Panties next, then dress,” Jin directs, receiving a scowl from the maknae.

“Hyung!”

Yoongi ignores the two squabbling, eyeing the dress as his hand kneads the supple flesh of your thigh. The knife hangs above your sternum, your chest heaving with each breath in anticipation as you watch the glint of the metal.

“Hold still love,” Yoongi murmurs, but how were you supposed to with it so close to your chest?

You look away, face turned to the mattress, eyes closed as you hold your breath. He’s so delicate, you know he’d never hurt you, but you can feel the whisper of what that weapon could do, and it's both terrifying and thrilling in every sense.

You only open your eyes when you feel his lips pepper kisses of praise from the highest point of your cheek, down your jaw to the newly exposed skin of your cleavage. Distracting you with his mouth, he does away with the remaining material of what used to be your dress, discarding it quickly off the bed before he seals your lips desperately with his own, pressing his clothed body onto your almost bare form. He wanted to tell you how well you did, but he knew praises weren’t part of the plan today. Instead he let his mouth devour yours, tongue tasting you with a pleasant moan. The knife is placed out of reach somewhere so he can cup your cheek, his other hand roaming your sides.

You try to touch, frustrated as you pull against the rope, forgetting the whole reason why you were in this position to begin with.

“Hyung, the rest of her clothes,” Jimin reminds him impatiently, waiting for his turn.

Yoongi begrudgingly parts his lips from yours, a tiny string of saliva still connecting you both together as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Just tell us little love,” he almost begs, but you show no signs of doing so.

He sighs, features turning to stone as he sits up, the blade unforgivingly tearing through your underwear until no inch of you was hidden. You shiver when he pins you down with a look in his eyes that makes sure you understood that, there was nothing you could hide from them, nothing that they couldn’t uncover.

They were the most powerful men in Seoul, and while they worshipped you, while you were the only being they loved, an angel amongst ants, you were not out of the reach of that power. You didn’t feel naked until Yoongi walked away from you, and suddenly you were aware of every inch of skin that was exposed to them. They stand around you in a disjointed circle, predators proud of the prey they caught in their trap. There it was, Hoseok could see it, that look of realisation in your eyes, this was the level of vulnerability he wanted you to feel. He wanted it to creep up your limbs into your chest until your heart pumped at their mercy.

“I’m starting to think our darling wanted to end up in this position,” Seokjin is the first to reach your form out of them, his eyes directly on your glistening folds before his fingers plunge into your warmth. He smirks as your back tries to arch off the bed, mouth agape at the intrusion. “Keeping secrets so we can ‘punish’ her like this.”

He says it mockingly as you clench around him, slowly fucking you with his digits as you try to maintain control over yourself.

“No, that's not it,” you deny airly, trying to sound defiant.

“Really love?” He removes his fingers to show you the evidence, your wetness coating them clearly in the light. All you could focus on was how empty you suddenly were, the way your core ached to be filled again after being teased with the feeling for a fleeting moment. But Jin was determined to play judge, jury and executioner, a knowing smirk on his face as he sucks your sweetness from his fingers. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t rub your thighs at the sight, but you still tried, cursing whoever was chuckling at your attempts. Fucking restraints.

As underhanded as it was, the horny side of your brain now fully took over, thinking of a way to get out of this position and move straight on to dessert. You tug against the ropes, wincing audibly, frowning for them all to see. You don’t miss the flare of concern passing through their features, containing your own smirk at how easy they could be to manipulate when it came to your safety, normally you would never ever think of doing it but if Hoseok had his way, you would be tied here for most of the night. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes closing as if in pain.

“The rope burns,” you say weakly, pouting sadly with glistening puppy dog eyes.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi chastises the mastermind, ready to untie you in a heartbeat but unfortunately for you, Hobi could see right through your charade.

“Yoongi it hurts,” you whine pathetically and honestly it makes him laugh, the others were whipped for your little act, he could see the worry in their brows as they fought with themselves to release you, but they wouldn’t until Hoseok allowed it. Good for him, Namjoon had kept a level head despite your words, otherwise his little ploy to overdose you with their version of love and affection would come to an end.

“Hyung she’s playing with us,” your more sadistic boyfriend announces, shaking his head at your audacity. They were trained killers and torturers, did you really think that was going to get past him just because you knew how to tug at their heart strings?

You could almost scowl at him, Yoongi was seconds away from taking a step towards you, you knew it. Instead you find yourself fighting a shudder when Hobi stands in front of you instead.

“Dove, you start this punishment every time thinking you’re going to win,” he chuckles, his palm on your thigh stroking your skin softly. “But you don’t, what makes you think this time will be different?”

Maybe it’s the position, maybe it was the pressure from their gazes but the words slip out of you against your better judgement.

“I don’t want to tell you this time,” you whisper. You watch all of their eyes darken at your confession, past the confines of lust and into the depths of possession. Whether or not there was a challenge to your tone, they had already accepted it.

He hums deeply, but you can see the fire ignite in his eyes as he stares you down, his thumb finding your clit, circling slowly. He doesn't need to see your slick gush out of you, he can feel it on his digits, smirking as his circling gets wider.

“Third time lucky huh baby?” he asks, a smug look plastered on his face, mocking you as he watches you press your lips into a line, your head pushed back against the pillow they so kindly placed under it, the way you so obviously swallowed down any sounds of pleasure before they could reach the open air. The other pillow was placed under your hip so they could reach and see you easier, and now as he inspected it, it was probably going to have to be thrown away with the mess you were making. “Well?”

Quick as a bullet, the smile is wiped from his face, thumb gone only for four fingers to slap your cunt hard. The sudden whiplash breaks you, lips unsealed to release a startled whimper into the room. This was why this position was his favourite, everything he gave you, you had to lie there and take.

“I asked you a question, dove,” he says menacingly, those four fingers rubbing round your folds to both calm and cause you ache.

You don’t even remember him asking one, the way your pussy was throbbing had your mind firing blanks. He doesn’t give you the opportunity to recover, another harsh hit has you crying out. Your eyes prickle with tears at the sting, but he soothes the pain quickly as he strokes your cunt, spreading your juices, making a mess, pushing you abruptly over the line to pleasure before your mind could catch up with you.

“H-hobi,” you choke out his name as you lose yourself to the feeling, pleading with the man to give you a second to think. “Fuck I-”

You had to remember quickly, you’ve seen him play this game before with actual victims of his torture, though obviously not like this. It always went on and on until they gave him an answer, and he didn’t stop until they did. He explained it to you before, it wasn’t about extracting information at this point during his style of interrogation. He asked an arbitrary question but didn’t give his prey a moment to answer correctly, hazing them with two extreme forms of torture, driving them hot and cold until he reduced them to nothing, and they gave away everything.

Your train of thoughts ran too long, another wet smack echoed against the walls followed by your broken mewls, tears dropping from the corner of your eyes. The others held their breath at the sight, held in a trance as your body helplessly tried to recoil away. You openly moaned now, head arched back as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That didn’t answer the question,” he snickers, the corner of his lip smirking viciously the more vocal you became.

“Yes!” you cry out, taking a chance on any fucking answer as you tried to contain the sounds spilling from you. He can’t realise you’re close, if he realises you’re close-

Your cunt throbbed against the cold air as he took his fingers away. Your poorly thought out plan worked against you; you answered the question, there was no reason to continue this part of his torture. Did you really think you could trick him? They all studied your every reaction every time you had sex, as if he wouldn’t know when you were close.

He chuckles as you groan desperately, the disappointment of not getting to cum making you want to bawl, and he had the audacity to laugh at your misfortune? Resentment and anger boiled under your skin, all of that, and he didn’t let you cum? The frustration had you more determined to win this game of his, more so out of spite.

He can see the resolve in your eyes, he was going to have so much fun breaking it bit by bit. Your eyes catch the prominent lining of his dick through his clothes as he moves away, almost as if he wanted you to see how hard you made him, your gaze unable to tear away at the sight, mouth watering. All your fuckable holes were empty and seven of your so-called lovers stood in abstinence while you writhed in need.

—

Jin had his cock standing tall in his moving hand, red tip leaking precum, heavy lidded eyes boring into yours so enticingly you could feel your throat swallowing criminally around nothing at the sight.

“Eyes on me heaven,” the body above your own quips deeply, voice vibrating against the skin he was currently worshipping with his mouth. His large hand slides up your neck, fingers pressed to the edge of your jaw, forcing you to look away from his hyung.

Hard kisses rise up your breast to your collar, tongue swirling the site before his teeth clamp down to punish your wavering attention.

“Tae!” You whine in shock, body pushing against his own at the pain but he only grins, moving an inch to suck on your skin determined to litter you with his marks. He’s not hurting you, not really, not in his mind. He would never hurt you. There was nothing wrong with leaving little love bites, they let everyone know who you belonged to, that was all. Anyone who dared to look at you would know, they’d see it, you were theirs. He hums in content at the thought, the sound so erotic to your ears.

Every time his teeth grazed your skin, every nip, every bite sent a jolt of pleasure down to your already aching core, you were so worked up, so on edge every touch was sending you into overdrive. You were losing coherency to need, your body took over, all it wanted was to be touched, more and more, and you were beginning to think you would give in to anything.

Every ear in the room strained to hear you pant, the tiny whimpers that you tried to hold back as your body became a canvas of red, the open air soothing the marks where Taehyung was busy creating more. His tongue never left your skin.

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to see what he’s doing, sighing in aggravation partly caused due to the erection in his pants. He hated seeing you hurt, but he couldn’t explain that deep satisfaction when it was one of them marking your beautiful body, when you hurt for them, when they were the ones to push your boundaries and limits. When you liked it. He would always chastise the others when they played too rough but even he could help the proud smirk in the mornings when you ached from the night before.

“I think that's enough,” he orders gruffly, side eyeing Hoseok who was letting Taehyung take things too far.

The younger male whines against you in protest, not yet done with his work of art, carrying on with more urgency. His movements become harsher, less calculated, making you squirm underneath him. Your clit is so close to his thigh, if you could just-

“Taehyung,” Hoseok’s command is calm, and though he hesitates he removes his lips from you, he follows his orders. Hooded eyes meet your own before they run down your body with a groan, he did so well, he did so fucking well. He wished the room had a mirror on the ceiling so you could see it too, the way he painted you.

He ruts into your hip, all self control lost the moment he saw his work coupled with your glazed eyes, mouth engulfing yours in a bruising kiss. You swallow his moans, relishing in the way finally the top of his thighs pressed against your clit as he moved against you. It wasn’t the ideal way to cum but you were so wound up you just needed to, you didn’t care how.

“So perfect,” he groans, mouth still attached to yours, fingers digging into your waist as he chases his own high, hopefully unaware you were reaching yours. “Our perfect little love.”

It was just a matter of who got there first, you desperately tried to lose yourself to it, begging your body for release before someone tore it away from you again.

“F-Fuck, ours, our baby, our love,” he possessively states, rutting against you faster as he spurs himself on, kissing down your cheek to your neck as he groans below your ear.

You bite your lip hard to stop yourself returning his moans, not wanting them to notice your own oncoming orgasm as you both raced to the finish line, but it wasn’t enough for you. His movements only seemed to tease you, stimulating you for only seconds at a time, you wanted to scream but they’d be on to you if you did.

“Ours,ours,oursoursours- fuck fuck fuck,” he loses himself, cumming in his pants with a shudder as he stills, resting his weight on you with a fucked out sigh. You close your eyes in disappointment at your second failed orgasm for the night, stopping yourself from crying out.

You only open them when you feel Taehyung detach himself from you, breathing heavily with a cheeky grin on his lips, a chaste kiss to yours before he releases a breathy laugh.

“Mine,” he whispers so the others don’t hear before addressing Hobi, “I told you I could do it hyung.”

“Well done,” Hoseok snickered loudly, walking into your field of vision with a smug look on his face. “She really believed she was going to cum that time.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up with their taunting, but when you do you send Taehyung a seething look for his betrayal.

“Fuck you Jung Hoseok,” your voice hoarse but the bite could be heard. He only laughs, pure twisted happiness stretching ear from ear.

“That’s exactly what you want, baby.”

You try to ignore the way your core was weeping but they could see it clear as day, the sight had Yoongi and Jungkook smirking, while Jimin and Jin watched with their tongues hanging out, ready for a lick.

“Look at the mess little love has made Jiminie,” Hoseok says as he approaches him, standing behind him with his hands on his shoulders. “Help her clean it up.”

He didn’t need it but he’s pushed toward you, stalking towards you desperately like a man starved. Hobi’s games were torture for everyone playing.

Normally he would take his time, he would kiss up our ankle to your thighs before devouring you, but he was so hungry he dived right in. You whined loudly as he ate you out, tugging on your restraints as you thrashed under him so hard that Yoongi wanted to hold your limbs down himself.

“Ji-min” you choke, hurtling towards your long awaited high so fast it was on your fingertips. “Ah, ah- NO!”

Like the snap of a band he sits up, your essence pouring down his chin a sinful sight.

“Fuuuck, no,” you cried, so done with this cruel punishment now.

“Sorry heaven,” he murmurs, licking his lips of your sweetness before kissing your thighs, waiting for you both to settle before he begins the journey again.

“No…” you try to wriggle away as he pecks your clit, overstimulated and sensitive to his touch. You can’t breathe, you can’t move, he peppers soft kisses all around your cunt, you’d find it romantic if you weren’t so spent. “I can’t, Jiminie I c-can’t.”

He licks a long stripe, circling your clit with his tongue as you try to catch your breath between moans. He makes out with your folds back to your hole, fucking you with his tongue, peering over your mound to watch you cry out for him.

It takes everything to detach himself from you again when he feels you clench around him, but Hobi’s instructions were clear: play with you, do whatever they want, but don’t let you cum, don’t fuck you.

“Please, please please,” you sniffle, painfully edged another time, eyes watering as your chest heaves. “Jiminie!”

His thumbs wipe away tears you didn’t realise had fallen, soothing you softly with a fond smile on his face.

“Shhh, don’t beg, beautiful,” he hums. “ I can barely hold myself back.”

He doesn’t wait long enough for you to come down this time, engulfing you again with a moan as you cry out again so shamelessly. Did you understand how beautiful this was to them? The sight of you spread helpless and needy for their attention, wanting them the way they always wanted you. Easy access to every part of you, moving only the way they wanted you to, their little doll, their little love.

Jimin moans into your cunt as he devours you, the constant edging rippling a scream from your throat as you begged to be pushed over this time. You almost believe this time you could, he brings you insanely close, closer than before, lost in his own lust induced trance, happily drowning in you before Hoseok pulls him out.

“Jimin!” His tone is sharp, the command makes the younger male tear away from you like a bandaid and you thrash against your restraints in frustration like a fish out of water. They all groan at the sight of your pussy pulsating with another orgasm out of reach, desperately and wordlessly begging to be filled.

“PLEASE!” You sound so deranged but you don’t even care at this point. You can’t even think straight, all you knew was you needed them and that was it, your brain’s based instincts kicked in, you were powerless, they were not, it was simple mathematics even your hazy mind could calculate.

“Please just let me cum please,” you openly sob, your cries filling the room but they only coo at the sight. You were so close this time, you could almost taste it and the journey back down was painful.

Your vision is so blurred with tears you don’t notice the change in presence above you, until you hear him groan. Jungkook can feel you throb against his dick as he leans against you, like your core had its own heart beat. He licks your tear stained face on one side, following the trail back to the source before kissing softly down your face. His hand finds your breast, kneading gently, taking his time with you at the cost of your sanity.

“Baby hates the lack of control,” he pouts against your lips sadly, eyes full of mirth and mocking. You did, every ounce of control was seized from you, it was why this punishment was so painful.

“K-ko-okie,” you were a blubbering mess, the more deranged depraved side of him found it so enticing he captured your crying lips in his own, smiling sadistically into the kiss as his hips rolled into your heat. This side of you was only for their eyes, this stripped fucked out needy part of you was theirs, only they could bring it out of you, only they could indulge in it. They wrapped you up in poignant perfection in front of everyone else, but this lewd sight was for their perversion.

“Look at our pillow princess,” he snickers, brushing your hair back affectionately as he parts from your lips with a pop. “Our crybaby.”

He grins happily, doe eyes full of love, a stark contrast to his lower half dry humping you. You’ve soaked through his clothes and he badly wants to disobey the rules and just fuck you. Just the tip, surely they wouldn’t mind the tip.

“She's so pretty when she cries,” Hoseok agrees with a chuckle. “But only when she’s crying for us.”

You don’t miss the hidden meaning behind his words even in your current state, whimpering from guilt at the accusation.

“That’s enough,” Namjoon finally announces since you all entered, his voice cutting through the lust-hazed room. Jungkook bites back his groan of protest, hips jittering to a still before moving away from you with a quick peck to your lips. Hoseok’s fun was over, it fulfilled its cause. At his command, they all stand still waiting for the head of their syndicate to take his turn.

“Joonie please,” you sob, unable to handle the way you were aching to cum, needing someone to touch you. You were so empty, the open air did nothing to comfort you.

His shadow falls over your form, his foreboding aura settling your tears as you look into the darkness of his eyes. His palm caresses your cheek, and you nuzzle into it wanting to melt his stone expression away.

“Have we tortured our love enough?” he asks, his tone empty, void of any inkling of his thoughts.

“Joonie please fuck me,” you beg, eyes closed as you focused on his touch like you were starving for it, even if it were just a hand to your face. You don’t know whether you want to kiss it or nip it with your teeth, just to get him to move, to do something with you. “Please fuck me, I can’t take it.”

“Are you going to tell us?”

You can hear the ultimatum whether he tried to hide it or not, your heart drums in panic, your body sobering.

“Joonie please!” You whimper, real tears rushing out of you as his stoic stature shows no sign of moving. The anxiety spirals into the brink of a breakdown, your mind running red alarm bells, almost forcing your confessions out of you. He always gives in to you in the end, when it came to sex, none of them ever refused to make you cum. They would elongate the edging, tie you up, play with you however they wanted, they would lie and deny that they would let you cum, but in the end they always gave in.

But the black vastness of Namjoon’s eyes told you otherwise, the rules had changed, you finally felt the gravity of the situation. His silence was terrifying you into believing he didn’t love you the same because of one stupid secret, that his displeasure with you ran so deep it changed the way he saw you.

“Joonie please let me cum,” you openly weep, pleading for him to prove you wrong.

The hand on your cheek holds onto your face firmer, his jaw tenses.

“One last chance little love,” he says in a low tone.

It’s on the tip of your tongue, pushing itself against your teeth, trying to barrel out of your mouth but you hold it back. He sighs as you sniffle, nodding in acceptance. The others hesitate when he orders them to leave with a look.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your voice breaks their hearts as they walk away but Namjoon’s decision could never be questioned. The most powerful man in Seoul waits for you to meet his gaze, to see how serious he was about this. He doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as you beg for them, as you cried for him to stop when he turned away.

“He judged our relationship!” You shriek through your tears, the confession washing a wave of agony over your chest as you wailed. You close your eyes in defeat, you didn’t want to tell them, but you just did.

All seven men freeze at your words, taking it in as it striked through their veins, igniting a terrifying fury in their hearts. Why did you care what he thought?

You can feel his presence over you again, the others close behind, opening your eyes to see his questioning gaze and the sinister rage that would not accept silence as an answer.

“I-I, He,” you bite your lip to control the way they trembled as he watched you shed tears for another man, no longer able to meet his stare. “I-I could see it in his eyes-”

You take a shaky breath, trying to get the words out.

“He realised I left b-because,” the look Suho gave you was burned to the back of your mind. “Because…”

“Because you love us,” Jimin finishes your sentence for you abruptly, eyes glowering with oncoming danger.

“Why does an insect's opinion matter so much to you, little love?” Jin spits, disgust running down his throat at his own question. What did he mean to you that his judgement had you crying like this?

“I-I looked up to him,” you confess weakly and it cements their jealousy. “He was my closest friend, but the look on his face it j-just- I, I realised-”

The more you spoke the more impatient they became with you, you were already paying too much attention to this insignificant ant from your past, he shouldn’t matter. You had all seven of them now, why would you give this idiot so much thought, enough thought that it had you questioning your relationship with them. Whether you wanted it or not, he would be in a body bag before the night ended.

“Spit it out Y/n,” Jungkook seethes, the use of your name with no audible ounce of love cutting you deeply.

You meet Namjoon’s unfaltering stare feeling the most vulnerable you had in your life.

“Am I a bad person for loving you?” You breathe, voice thick before you hiccup back tears. “Is loving you so wrong?”

Six of the seven hard glares on your form falter, only one remained.

“Because the look on his face said I was the most disgusting, v-vile..” your voice rose with every insult as if you were attacking yourself with them. “...evil piece of shit to ever exist.”

Namjoon hovers above you, a silent anger vibrating through his skin as he takes off his shirt. That bug made the most precious beautiful being on this revolting planet feel like this, and you believed him. They had drowned you in their love, whispering prayers on your skin of your perfection, worshipping every inch of you, and you never trusted a word of it. But this virus of man… you accepted everything he had to say with a look. Namjoon was going to make you both pay.

“You, little love?” He soothes you with his voice. “Never…”

He shakes his head, leaning on one arm as his other hand gips your chin harshly, fingers squeezing your cheeks until your mouth opened.

“But us,” there's a depraved gleam in his eyes as he smirked. “We are baby, we’re the scum of the Earth.”

You try to shake your head in denial to his statement but his hold on you was firm.

“And we tainted you.” He spits into your mouth to emphasise his point, letting out a breath of laughter when you swallow it without prompting, amused by the way your eyes dilated at his attention.

“Yorre-not” you try to speak despite the awkward position of your mouth, feeling the ache as he releases his grip to let you speak. “Not to me.”

“Little love, you’ve seen what we do,” he starts sternly. “Don’t deny what we are.”

“You do bad things,” you protest, wanting to reach out and touch him, but you’re still stuck in Hobi’s trap. “You’re not bad people.”

He chuckles humourlessly at your naivety as he unzips his pants, pulling them down to release his erection. His dick bounces against his abdomen, angry veins protruding on the underside as he lines it with your entrance. If you didn’t get it yet, he’d fuck it into you untl you did.

“I want you to love us for what we are,” he says as he enters you watching your back arch and jaw drop, your walls sucking him in.

I-I do,” you whine, head thrashed back on the pillow as he bottoms out.

“I want you to stop making excuses for our behaviour in that little head of yours, we’re monsters love, demons from hell, we won’t change.”

“You’re not.”

You shake your head in denial, a pleasant moan rumbling from your throat as you finally feel fucking full.

“Look at our love for you,” he says as he begins to move, encasing you in his arms, surrounding you in him. “Look at what we do for you, we’d kill for you, no good man behaves the way we do.”

He thrusts deep and hard, slowly fucking you stupid as you struggled to speak.

“No good man fucks like this, like they want to own you, possess you, trap you,” he grunts, smirking when you clench around him. You could deny it all you wanted, you loved this side of them. You loved being smothered in the affection only they could give you.

It felt so good, so euphoric you could die here happily, you were so spent you could barely manage to keep your eyes open. Your oncoming orgasm creeps up on you, he can see it in the little frown between your brows as you whimper and pant for him delicately, body tensing underneath his own.

“Do you deserve to cum love? He asks mockingly, laughing when you nod desperately in reply.

“Pl-ease,” it was the only word you managed to articulate, your head was fogged and given into exhaustion.

“You can cum little love,” he breathes against your lips, giving you permission but not without a cost. “But if you do, we’re going to go pay your friend a little visit, I’m going to make you sit on my lap while the others make him understand you’re ours.”

He gruffly releases a breath on your lips, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he works you both closer to release, picturing the scene.

“He’s going to watch me fuck your pretty little throat before he dies,” he moans at the debaucharous image his vindictive side imagined. “Until you both get it into your heads, you’re mine.”

Deep dark smug satisfaction was the last thing you saw in his eyes as you reach your high to his depraved lilt, mouth open silently screaming, cumming hard around him. The pleasure soon turns to overstimulation as pounded into you through the longest orgasm of your life, high pitched whimpers escaping you as it becomes too much, head spinning as you come down from nearly passing out.

“F-fuck you want that too love,” the gutteral thickness of his voice almost growls. “I know you do baby-I know.”

It doesn’t take long for him to follow, filling you with his cum as he impels himself as deep as he could reach, whispering praises of possession, pressing his lips to your skin. You can’t focus on his words, barely able to catch your breath with the fatigue settling into your bones. Your eyes close, drained and reeling. You think you’ll be fine in a moment, but you fall quickly into a dreamless sleep. Seven love sick sociopaths watching you.

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😔🩷 love it

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure intense fluff, kissing, cuddling, squeezing, handsy pouty bastard, insisting you’ve been neglecting him, his is dying and it’s all your fault, how dare you do this to him, he will hold you accountable for your heinous crimes by cuddling you, toji is going soft for you, established relationship

Standing in front of your vanity, slipping your earrings off, sticking them with the rest. Glancing into your vanity mirror when Toji emerges from the bathroom.

Arms crossed over his bare pecs sticking his bottom lip out in his adorable pout. It’s one of your favorite Toji expressions. He huffs, “Finally someone figures where they live.”

He unzips the back of your dress. “You weren’t here!” kissing your shoulder. Slipping it down your body, trailing gentle sloppy kisses down your back. “The house was so empty and cold, I was dying of loneliness little mama.”

Stepping out of your dress, he tossing it into the hamper beside the bedroom door. “Is it even a home without you there?” His warm fingers brushing against your back unclasping your bra, gliding the straps off your shoulders. His touch comforting.

You insist, “Without you this place is just some walls.” Grabbing his hands, kissing his warm palms. Glancing into the mirror, Toji “It’s also not my fault you showed up two days early. Couldn't rush a planned girl’s night for your needy ass.” Turning around sliding your hand over his thick pecs, broad shoulder and into his soft dark hair.

“Im only needy when it comes you to mama. You’re so cruel neglecting me.” Grabbing your ass, lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist.

“We aren't leaving for the weekend. Tired of seeing everyone’s ugly ass faces and hearing their annoying ass voices.” He kisses the top of your head. “Just need to spend some time with you mama.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing your tightly.

Wheezing, “I'm all your’s Teddy Bear!” Your back pops several times. Gasping for sweet air when he loosens his gasp.

“Damn right you are.” Kissing along Toji’s jawline, softly biting his pouty bottom lip, melting into his gentle kiss.“It’s not fair mama I can't squeeze you like I want to.” Carrying you through the hallway, towards the living room. “Get good mama, lemme squeeze you tighter.”

“Nah Teddy Bear that’s a you problem.” Squeezing Toji’s slim waist with your legs, tightening your grasp around Toji’s neck. “I can hug you as tight as I want. Ha-ha-haha!” Ripping you off him and throwing you onto the sofa.

“Imma make it your problem little mama.” Carefully falling on top of you, pinning your body with his weight. Resting his head on your chest. “Hahah! Looks whose trapped now! I’m not letting you go anywhere beautiful.”

Pushing himself up, and leaning in for a kiss. “All mine.” Parting your lips, the gentle hunger of his passionate kiss replacing your need for air. Slipping your fingers through his soft dark hair.

When he pulls away, covering your face with kisses. You grin widelyz “I missed ya so much teddy bear, I’m all your’s for the rest of the week. I’ll make sure you get sick of me.” Giving your forehead another gentle kiss, squeezing your hips.

It’s comforting having his heavy weight pressing you into the bed. His large strong hands on your body making you feel so safe and protected. His gentle kisses and words ensuring you know how cherished you are.

His cheeks turn pink, spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring the tips of his ears. “I can never get enough of you.” His eyes widen. “Listen to me, ya made me all mushy, gonna have to hold you responsible. Hmm how should I do that.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

Satoru’s verison!

Choso x fem!reader

cw: smut

(m.list)

You are currently laying on your stomach, exhausted from the hours spent love making with your boyfriend. Your head is resting on the pillow and you’re hugging it, your eyes closed as you breathe softly. The air smells like sex, but you revel in it, reminding you of the love you share with your boyfriend.

Choso is propped up on a elbow while he looks down at you with a little contented smile gracing his lips, tenderly tracing patterns on your back. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling, relaxing further under his touch. You shift slightly in bed when you feel your boyfriend’s cum slowly oozing out your hole and you clench your thighs together. Your body is sore, but it’s a delicious pain reminding you of what you just finished to do with your lover.

“Baby…,” your boyfriend whines softly, glancing at your legs’ movement before leaning down to place soft kisses on your temple and side of the face. “Mmh,” you answer, eyes still closed and smiling when you feel choso’s lips on your skin.

His hands go lower, caressing the outline of your asscheeks and the back of your thighs. There is a lovestruck look in his half lidded eyes as he looks down at you, and his lips are swollen from all the kisses you shared. “One more time, please?,” He asks softly against your skin, moving his hand to stroke away your hair from your face and look down at you with tender eyes.

You let out a groan mixed with a chuckle and turn your head to the other side, playfully ignoring him. “I’m tired and sore, Cho,” you tell him, your voice muffled against the pillow. It’s followed by a little whine from your boyfriend and you feel him getting closer against your back.

“I know, i know… I’ll be soft, mh? Please, love,” he goes on, pressing soft kisses along your spine, his hand going back to caress the back of your thighs. You let out a soft hum at his words, and he knows that you’re giving him permission.

With that, he grips your hips and moves you on top of him, until you’re laying on his chest and your legs are on each side on his waist. Your face is buried against his neck, and you sigh softly when you feel him caress your thigh with one hand and guide his cock to your hole with the other.

“Mmh, Cho…,” you whine softly against his skin when his cock easily slips inside you, facilitated by both his cum and your juices spilling out of your hole. You arch your back and bite your lower lip as you raise your head from his neck to look down at your pretty boyfriend. He slowly thrust inside of you, dragging his cock against your walls which grips to him tightly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning up to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You moan when you taste his tongue, sucking it gently in your mouth. He keeps fucking his cock up inside of you, while his hands roam lazily across your back.

You pull back to breathe and rest your forehead against his, feeling your lips brushing against each other and your breaths mingling together. “I’m c-close, princess,” he moans after a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut as he brings his hands to grip your asscheeks and thrusting slightly harder into you. Both of you are still overstimulated from the previous session, and you already feel getting closer yourself.

“Fuck… yes, please, Cho,” you whine, reaching between your bodies to rub your clit, wanting to reach your orgasm with your boyfriend. He keeps drilling his cock inside you while moaning against your lips, until he stills and spurts his cum inside you. You come soon after, your walls spasming around him and milking him dry.

“O-ooh, god… fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs breathless, still thrusting mindlessly inside you, wanting to keep his cum nestled in your walls. You sigh and relax against him, burying your face against his neck and smiling softly. “I’m tired…,” you murmur against your skin and Choso smiles.

He caresses your back, gently sliding out of you as he leaves soft kisses against your temple. His cum oozes out of your hole in fat globes, and slides down over his soft cock. “I know, I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, holding you tightly against him. In that moment, it’s like the world around you two doesn’t exist and the only important thing is you two, together.

this one. this one is THE ONE.

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

summary: taking care of peter's wounds always ends the same way. [andrew gardfield's spiderman x reader]

warnings: mutual masturbation (handjob and fingering), slight cum play? (technically also spit? idk if it counts)

18+ ONLY || MINORS DON'T INTERACT OR I'LL BLOCK YOU

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I'M OBSESSED WITH ANDREW'S PETER PARKER AND WHAT ABOUT IT?? this came to me after i watched that scene in the first tasm movie lol. in this, you and peter are in university (around 22 years old, let’s pretend people in their 20s care about nerds and bullys). also, there's no nwh spoilers in this, so everyone can read it.

“You’re an idiot,” you scold, tenderly cleaning the small cut on his chin from his fight with Flash.

Peter hisses when the alcohol seeps into the wound, almost throwing his head back against the mirror in pain but your grip on his jaw keeps him in place.

“Mmm, actually, I’m pretty smart,” he says, settling his hands on your waist and pulling you between his legs. “Top of the class, even.”

You roll your eyes, dumping the cotton on the sink and opening up a bandaid. “Not street smart enough, apparently,” you quip back, a small smirk on your lips, then drop it back to a frown. You put the bandaid on and cup his face. “Honestly, what were you thinking?”

“That Flash needed to be humbled a little. You know,” he shrugs, “show him not all nerds won’t fight back.” At your blank look, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. “C’mon, don’t look at me like that,” he pouts, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s a stupid reason,” you say.

“Mhm,” he hums.

“He broke your camera,” he hums again, shrugging one shoulder disinterestedly. He can fix it himself later. “You know I worry about you,” you continue. Peter hums once more, this time fighting back a smile. What can he say? He likes to know you care about him. “And you’re hurt.”

“Mhm, I am. Will you kiss it better?”

You huff out an irritated breath. Peter laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re unbelievable,” you shake your head.

“You’re my nurse!” he chuckles, tilting your head back so you can look him in the eye. Childishly, he says, “Won’t you please make my booboo better?”

You try to pull away but he holds on to your face, shaking his head. “No, no, come here,” and he leans down to kiss you. Out of sheer stubbornness, you continue to struggle, but soon enough your body melts into his. You sag against him, one of your hands resting on his leg as leverage while the other goes to the back of his head and pulls on his hair.

He groans into your mouth, leaving the kiss in favour of trailing his lips down your neck. You sigh in pleasure, his sloppy pecks and nibbles making your tummy flutter nicely, a warmth seeping into your core that makes you a little fuzzy.

Your hand on his leg moves up slowly, teasingly. You reach his crotch at the same time his hand sneaks underneath your skirt, barely skirting your underwear, but it’s enough for you to whine desperately.

“Will you make it better, baby?” Peter mumbles into your skin, his hot breath making you shiver. You palm him through his jeans, feeling him harden with your simple touch. With shaky hands, you unbuckle his belt, your knees almost buckling when Peter rubs your clit through your panties. He smirks against your neck when the fabric gets wetter.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, running your nails over his stomach. His muscles flex, a low moan coming out of Peter’s mouth.

“Don’t tease,” he groans.

“You’re teasing me, too,” you chuckle, kissing his jaw and nipping it. You unzip his jeans, sneaking your fingers under the band of his boxers and running the soft pads of your fingers along his cock. Peter twitches at your delicate caress; desperate for more.

With an impatient huff, Peter moves your underwear to the side and runs his fingers between your glistening folds, coating them in your arousal, then slowly pushing two of them inside you. Your breath hitches at the slight burn, his fingers stretching you as he thrusts them. You rest your forehead against his, biting your lip to prevent the whine that threatens to leave your mouth from coming out.

Peter raises his hips to help you pull down his underwear, his cock finally springing free of its confines and hitting his stomach. “Shit,” he curses when you grab him. “Gimme your hand.”

You do as he says, looking through hooded eyes as he brings it closer to his mouth and runs his tongue all over it. It’s a lewd sight, your boyfriend covering your hand with his spit while he fingers you, but it’s so hot that you can’t help but moan. Loudly.

He gives you a nod and you grab his cock again, pumping him slowly and thumbing the slit whenever you reach the tip. He moans and throws his head back, the mirror rattling from the impact, but neither of you cares too much.

You gasp when Peter curls his fingers, pushing them to his knuckles and feeling a new wave of slick coating them. You grab the back of his neck with a shuddering moan, tightening your grip around his cock.

“So good, baby, you’re so good,” he moans, tilting down his head and bumping your jaw with his nose. He kisses underneath it, going up to your chin before kissing your lips deeply, drinking in all the pretty sounds you make for him.

Your pussy flutters around his fingers, your body eagerly receiving his praise. “I’m close,” you whimper into his mouth. He can tell, you’re practically squeezing the life out of his fingers, your pussy clinging to them and trying to keep them snug inside you.

Peter pulls your lower lip between his teeth, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit. You’re so wet for him it’s slippery, but the effect he has on you drives him mad. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos hoarsely, his ears ringing with the wet sounds your pussy makes. “But hold it for me, yeah? I want to cum with you.”

You nod shakily, focusing on bringing Peter to the edge. You mimic the pace he fucks you with, biting and kissing along his neck, letting your other hand explore his torso under his t-shirt.

Peter takes hold of the roots of your hair, pulling you away from him. “Look at me,” he groans. Your lips are parted as you gaze at him, scanning your eyes over the purple bruise on his cheek and the cut on his chin, before finding a home in Peter’s chocolate ones. “You can let go, c’mon. Y’can do it, give it to me, baby.”

You come undone together– Peter twitching in your hand and covering it in white spurts with a beautiful whimper, and you falling against Peter, your legs shaking as you moan brokenly. He holds you tightly, the hand on your back coaxing you while he helps you ride your orgasm out.

You hide your face in his chest as you catch your breath, Peter tucking his head in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He takes in your perfume– the hints of jasmine filling his nostrils and making him relax even more, the previous tension in his shoulders evaporating completely.

With slow and gentle movements, he pulls out his fingers, shushing you when you whine. He taps your wrist and leans completely against the mirror, keeping you from slumping down with a tight grip on your hip.

Already knowing what he wants, you bring your hand up to his mouth, Peter doing the same with his. He pokes his tongue out and licks your fingers, cleaning up the mess he made. He makes sure there’s no residue left behind, looking into your eyes as he runs his tongue over the back of your hand, grinning at the slight blush on your face.

“Your turn,” he says once he’s done, tapping his still wet fingers on your lips. You take them into your mouth and suck on them, running the flat of your tongue under the pads of his index and middle fingers with a content hum, your eyes falling shut as you clean him.

Even when there’s no more cum to clean up, you keep sucking on them, holding on to his wrist like a lifeline. Peter cups the back of your head and kisses your forehead, mumbling a “good girl” and tucking you under his chin.

🥺

࿐ྂ who wants her? | v.h.

          —  pairing: vinnie x reader           —  word count: ~200           —  summary: snoozin’ while vinnie’s chattin’

          ࿐ྂ

“Yo, chat. Lemme show you something…”

Vinnie adjusts his phone’s camera, focusing on his beloved lump-of-a-girlfriend (you), curled within those coal-grey bedsheets, and not to mention his favorite tanned feline is snug at your side, tail curling and swaying.

“Chat, tell me why this lil woman waltzed in here like she owned the place, kissed and loved up on my cat, used my bathroom, and then fell asleep in my bed? Look, look…”

He zooms in on your visage, pretty as you are, even when you’re snoozin’ away like this.

“She’s kinda drooling, though. Ew. Who wants her?”

It takes two seconds for Vinnie’s comment section to flood with a barrage of fans playfully claiming you for themselves, though his gaze tries to skim through the blur of words. 

“Nah, none of you can actually have her, chat. I’m sorry,” he’s quick to retract his false offer, and he leans down where his lips fall gently against the warmth of your forehead. Vinnie’s sweet, sweet kiss lingers to wish a good night’s rest upon you before he decides to withdraw, grinning wide for the absolutely frenzied live chat as he admits in earnest:

“I think I’d fall apart without her.” 

          ࿐ྂ

HUSBAND SUGURU! + PREGNANCY ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tags: fem! reader, husband suguru!, nsfw, suguru is very hesitant about being a dad, but isnt forced into this :), reader is very motherly, dirty talk and talk about getting off the pill and being bred.

word count: 2,1k

Husband Suguru! whom before you even got married, sat you down and mentioned to you how starting a family wasn’t something he was looking forward to. you know of his past, of the trauma he’s been through. he fully expects you to break up with him when he tells you that, knows how much you want to have a baby of your own, but you don’t. instead, you cradle him in your arms and tell him that you love him and appreciate what you have right now, not what you don’t even see in the picture.

Husband Suguru! who swears he hasn’t changed his mind about babies, about starting a family in general even three years into the marriage. but when he sees you with your friend’s baby, the glow on your face, the motherly instinct—how you gently place your hand on the baby’s head, rock her back and forth and coo at her softly while her mother gets her food ready, his heart feels as though it is about to explode.

“There there baby girl,” your voice is barely above a whisper, and when the baby cries, your lip juts out and you pull the infant towards your chest in an attempt at soothing her. your eyes find his where he is sitting on the couch, and the lighthearted chuckle you give him pulls a nervous one out of his body. you are now convinced that your husband would never ever change his mind based on the horror painting his features as he turns to your friend’s husband to strike a conversation. but in reality, the topic of their conversation is all too surprising.

“Has it been difficult? You know, managing a career and taking care of the baby,”

“Oh yeah very,” the other man admits but Suguru doesn’t detect a single hint of regret in his voice. “but yknow, look at that,” he point his glass of water in the direction of his wife and you holding the baby. “seeing my wife with our baby, our creation—seeing her act all motherly like that? Totally worth it.”

Husband Suguru! who starts to consider the idea of getting you pregnant. he hopes for the rational part of his brain to win over, rather than the horny, disgustingly perverted one. but when you walk out of the shower in a crop top, his mind drifts elsewhere—and suddenly, the image of your belly swollen with his kids floods his mind and he has to put a pillow on his crotch to hide the very evident bulge in his pants.

Husband Suguru! who once he calms down and takes care of his raging boner, texts Satoru in a hurry, asking if they could meet up tomorrow morning. your husband tells you of his plans and you hum sleepily, telling him how catching up with his best friend seems like a good idea. Suguru drops the bomb on his best friend the moment they sit down and the ivory haired’s jaw almost meets the floor.

“You mean you wanna be a dad?”

“I’m not…too sure,” Suguru looks conflicted, he is holding his head in his hands. he knows very well that this is a topic that should be discussed with you, since you were the other person of interest in the situation. but he would hate to give you false hope, he’s seen the way your eyes light up at the mention of a baby, at one of your friends or colleagues being pregnant, how there’s a disappointed look on your face that you try so hard to conceal when Suguru gives you a face in response of a pregnancy announcement. but you are so patient, so accepting, you’ve never once forced him into anything. and truth be told, he wanted to see what kind of mother you would be to your baby—and then toddler, and then teenager and adult—you’d have a life together with a new person who would adapt either your personality or his, with a face of the love of his life. your baby could have your eyes and nose, he’s always pointed them out—even before you started dating.

“Dude, do you or do you not want to have a baby?”

“I don’t know man, it’s hard to think of.”

“Because you are thinking too hard about it,” Satoru says nonchalantly and it irks Suguru a little.

“I am not thinking too hard about it—this is a new responsibility, what if I am not fit to be a dad? I could be a failure for all we know—what if I pussy out of it and—“

“I would kill you.” Satoru warns the man and Suguru doesn’t try to hide how he stiffens up. “I am not joking, I would find you and bring you back to her as a sack of bones,”

“I wouldn’t betray her like that…”

“You’re too focused on the aspect of being a bad dad rather than a good one—yknow, you really think that she’d marry someone she doesn’t see fit as the future father of her children?” Satoru has a point. you did mention to him once (when Suguru was nowhere to be seen at a party you all attended) how falling in love with him was the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but the one thing that would top it is if he became a father to your children. Satoru, knowing his best friend’s stance on the topic, reminded you of how terrified the man was of the idea and all you did was give him a reassuring, understanding wave of your hands.

“I know, but I just know he’d love them hard and make them feel as safe as he makes me feel.”

Husband Suguru! who doesn’t really try to bring up the topic of ‘trying for a baby’. he cringes at the thought, feels as though it makes the process less romantic and intimate and more of a robotic task. as he is stripping you of your clothes, he is silent and lets his eyes wander over your figure. you are extremely shy tonight, unable to meet his eyes as his rough, calloused hands brush over the skin of your boobs before bending down to be at eye level with them. he brings the flesh inside his mouth and sucks—and blood rushes down to his groin at the thought of them being filled with milk, heavy and swollen, more sensitive than usual. his teeth graze the skin at an attempt to catch your attention and your thighs squeeze as you meet his eyes.

“Sugu…” your smaller hands rest on his face as he pulls away from your boobs to plant a heated kiss to your lips, effectively pushing you back on the bed. your back gently hits the mattress, and your chest is heaving in anticipation, unsure of what his next move would be.

“Baby,” he finally speaks up, nose brushing against your stomach as he brings his lips to the skin. “how about you drop the pill tomorrow?” he knows how much of a horrible job he is doing at this, but he feels you move, supporting yourself on your elbows.

“w-why would I do that?” your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and Suguru wishes to brush his thumb over the tense skin of your forehead.

Suguru is shameless as he kisses further south, planting his kiss above the tuft of your pubic hair before pushing your panties to the side. He parts the lips and gives your clit a kiss before moving to your inner thighs.

“why not? It’s doing horrible things to your body—“ he brushes his nose over your clit as he speaks. “beside, we need you off the pill if we want a baby, don’t you think?” when you don’t react to his words, Suguru looks up only to find you staring down at him with parted lips and eyes glossed over with tears.

“…are you sure?” you ask softly, and your husband swears he could never say no to you if you asked like that all the time.

“very,”

Husband Suguru! who fucks you with a new purpose. each drive of his hips fueling the other to go harder, deeper, to keep pushing his cum inside you and plant his seed deep within. your cunt does a great job at showing Suguru how ecstatic and excited you are with his sudden change of heart. you keep squeezing around him, barely able to keep your sounds in—he fucks you so deeply that the sound of skin to skin is louder than your moans and his groans. when he puts you on all fours, the cum starts to drip out of you but he pushes it back in with two thick fingers, lips pressed to your ass cheek.

“want more?”

“mmm! please,” you whine when he aligns his tips with your folds and fixes your arch with a hand on the small of your back. the gasp that escapes your lips when he fucks into you hard makes Suguru chuckle and he rubs your sides, soothing you.

“no need to beg for it,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your nape. “I’d gladly fill you up.”

Husband Suguru! who stiffens up when you show him the positive pregnancy test. up until this point, he is in control of his emotions—he lets you cry in his arms about how scary all of this was, despite you saying you’ve always wanted a baby. he is supportive, understanding of the heightened emotions that you are experiencing—when he sees your tears turn into happy ones, only half of him is able to relax. clearly, he is nervous but he doesn’t wanna show it. not right now.

The first ultrasound during your pregnancy was nerve racking—your hand squeezed your husband’s as you stared at the screen showing what appeared to be your unborn baby. Very tiny, but still there.

“Okay mom and dad,” the doctor presses the ultrasound transducer a bit lower on your stomach, a small smile on his face. “I got some news for you.”

“Good?” your anxious voice has Suguru rubbing his thumb on the back on your hand.

“It depends, how long have you been trying for this baby?” You couldn’t exactly disclose of your very active sex life, but you do give the doctor hints that it was definitely wanted.

“Well, look over here—“ he points to the screen with his gloved finger, ushering Suguru to come closer. “Look over here dad, what do you see?”

Suguru swallows hard as he stares at the screen in confusion, unsure of what to say. “..a baby?”

“Babies. Congratulations, you’re pregnant with twins.”

Your husband whips his head towards you fast, and you cover your mouth in shock. This wasn’t planned—twins? And for a first time? You didn’t know if the tears streaming down your face were of excitement or fear that maybe you weren’t ready for this.

But Suguru still comforts you, holds you in his arms—tells you that maybe finding out the gender won’t make all of this sound scary anymore. He knew you never really had a preference for gender—you were a natural mom.

However, finding out the gender was an emotional experience for the same man who never thought he would become a father.

Husband Suguru! who tells Satoru to buy the gender reveal cake for you two. he doesn’t want to throw a party, and neither do you. finding out within the privacy of your own home seemed like the best option—you didn’t want to reveal that you were pregnant to any family members—at least not yet.

“Are you ready?” You hold your own glass as you wait for your husband to stand next to you. Your bump wasn’t that evident yet, but signs of pregnancy were starting to show on your body and it brought this warm feeling to Suguru’s body.

“Yeah, hold my hand.” You chuckle slightly at his request but comply either way. Each of you holds their own glass above the cake before looking away as you push it down—you hold your breath, Suguru rests his forehead on your shoulder as he mumbles something about not being able to look at the cake. But you muster up the courage and lift your glass, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

“Sugu—“ you don’t need to tell him to look, he was already staring at the glass with teary eyes. The pink frosting wasn’t something he was expecting to see—he knew he was going to be happy with either but two little girls? His own baby girls—the thought of being a girl dad brings tears to his eyes and you’re quickly pulling him towards you.

“Oh baby,” you hold back your own tears as you comfort your emotional husband, his arms wrapped around your middle. You hear little sniffles and a hand rubs your back before feeling a pair of lips pressed to your forehead.

“Gonna be the prettiest mom to the prettiest girls. Ever.”   

note: my posts are all self indulgent at this point… enjoy :D

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

Blame this guy named tony for this ok😭

this is just something else oh god i love them sm

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!