december with you
the tattoorry christmas one shot is finally here :D I know you guys really loved their original story so I hope people like this little look into their life together during the holiday season!!!!
read only angel (the original series) here
word count: 4.2k
content warnings: mentions of y/n's terrible parents, smut (dirty talk, a bit of degradation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of impact play, grinding, daddy kink)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
December 5, 2023
"Have you ever had a real Christmas tree?"
Y/N and Harry are currently both bundled up in layers of sweaters, scarves, and puffy jackets, but their fingers are still messily intertwined and hidden in Harry's coat pocket. They're walking back to his place from the shop after a long day of work and school, and Y/N can't help but gaze longingly at the Christmas tree salesman across the way. There's an array of forest green trees and wreaths, the comforting balsam and pine scent creating a fragrant wintertime cloud around them.
Harry's so focused on braving the cold with his girl that it takes him a moment to register that she's said anything at all. He thinks for a moment — he hasn't gotten a Christmas tree for the past few years of living alone, but the employees usually stick a small one in the shop for a hint of holiday spirit.
"Yeah, we always got them growing up. My mom had a thing about 'em, always said they were better than fake ones."
She hums as they pass the display, Harry gently dragging her along down the block — his apartment is so close he can taste the warmth. They've only been properly dating for a few months now, so he's still learning about her communication tells and body language, and it's only then that he realizes that's her way of saying, I never had one before.
"Did your parents put up a Christmas tree?" he asks. He knows it's a sore subject, that she's still very much in the process of healing from years of trauma, but she tends to be comfortable with questions that aren't directly related to them. Things like, what was your favorite Halloween costume growing up? and what did you want to be when you were little?
"They did, but it was always one of those fake white ones." Y/N replies with a wrinkled nose. Finally, they're approaching the front of Harry's building, his keys already in his hand and prepared to unlock the front door. They make quick work of shimmying into the lobby, immediately breathing out mutual sighs of relief from the instant temperature increase.
"Those barely count as Christmas trees," Harry murmurs, pressing the elevator button. She nods, agreeing and following him inside. She buries her mitten-clad hands into the pockets of her jacket as she watches him press the floor 4 button. "Maybe you and Luce can get a real one?"
"She's Jewish. I think I'd feel bad about putting a tree up."
Harry nods his head, unsurprised by his girl's ever-polite nature in never wanting to make anyone else uncomfortable. Realistically, her roommate probably wouldn't care if she wanted to get a real Christmas tree, especially knowing her history with her parents.
The conversation ceases as he unlocks the door to his apartment. As soon as they step inside, they perform the routine they've been following for the past few weeks — shedding of jackets, scarves, and gloves, toeing off shoes in the entryway, and Y/N shuffling in the direction of Harry's bedroom to change into comfortable clothes while he proposes dinner options.
She's currently changing into her favorite pair of his sweatpants and an equally worn and cozy sweatshirt (Harry specifically did laundry the night before, knowing she'd want them) as he calls out takeout suggestions.
"Italian?"
"Mm, Lucy and I made pizza last night, so pass!"
"Sushi?"
"Last time you didn't like it, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbles, mainly to himself, "Chinese, then? I'm in the mood for something noodle-y."
"Chinese is good," Y/N says as she walks out to meet him in the living room. He grins when he sees her, the image of her in his clothes never quite getting old. Even though it's something he witnesses multiple times a week, he can never help his length from thickening up in his briefs. "Can you get me the veggie lo mein? And maybe we can split some dumplings if you want?"
"'course, dovie."
He unlocks his phone and pulls up the food ordering app while Y/N occupies herself with cozying up on the couch, bundling underneath the fuzzy pink throw blanket. She watches him as he looks down at the screen in his hand, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in focus. He looks so cute, Y/N thinks — sometimes it's silly to her that someone like him could like her, but he never makes her doubt his adoration.
"Alright, all ordered," Harry announces with a smile. He leans over the couch to press a kiss to her hair. "I'm gonna go change, you wanna pick something to watch?"
She hums noncommittally, her eyes fluttering to his as she looks up to see him standing over her. She reaches out to clasp a hand around his wrist — for what, they're both unsure of in the moment, and it seems like she's just as surprised as he is. He quirks a brow in silent questioning and her lips part, the pink tip of her tongue running over the ridges of her two front teeth.
"About the tree," she forces out, a look of distress so severe you'd think she was asking to marry him. "Did you... like it?"
"...did I like the tree?"
"Yeah," she nods, shifting onto her knees so she can lean her chest against the back of the couch and face him. "The tree your mom would get. Did you like it?"
"Sure. It was nice," Harry replies with a shrug. He reaches out to thumb over her plushy bottom lip, giving it a small squeeze. "What are you getting at, dove?"
Harry tries to practice this with her frequently. He's learned that she tends to be afraid of asking for what she wants, even if it's something small like stopping at the grocery store on their walk home. He knows it's from years of trauma from her parents, but he also knows that she's beyond capable of voicing her wants and needs. He's not sure if she's aware that he does this with her — some days are better than others and he always promises himself to take it easy with her.
"I was just wondering if maybe we could go see them. The trees."
He smiles gently. "Yeah, we could do that. Do you just wanna look at them?"
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, a bashful blush blooming over her skin.
"We could get one if you want," he murmurs as he ducks down to catch her eyes. "We could put it up here."
"Really?"
His heart squeezes at the instant twinkle in her eyes, a hopeful expression painted over her features. He grins and nods.
"Of course. We can go tomorrow."
"Okay," she agrees with a smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. He gasps in fake shock and she giggles.
"Careful dovie, I might just think you like me."
. . .
December 14, 2023
Y/N hates the cold.
Today, it's bitterly cold, the tips of her ears red from the harsh winter wind nipping at them all afternoon. Her hands are stuffed in mittens, she's wearing multiple thermal layers beneath her North Face puffer jacket (an early Christmas gift from Harry, who claimed her current coat wasn't cutting it), and her toes have officially surpassed an acrid sting and live in the completely and utterly numb category.
But she supposes it's worth it all to walk arm-in-arm with Harry as they explore his favorite holiday market.
He's been blabbing her ear off about it since it started in the last week of November, explaining that he discovered it his first year living in the city, just a few months after opening the shop. He said that business was slow and he couldn't afford to visit his family in London for the holidays, so he was feeling particularly down, but this market actually awoke a bit of festive spirit in him. Ever since then, he comes back every year, gets a hot chocolate, and walks through the rows of vendors, even if he doesn't buy anything — and he was beyond excited to experience it with Y/N this year.
It just so happened that they hadn't taken the weather into account. Harry asked Y/N about a million separate times, making sure she was still okay with going (and while she much would have rather stay home, snuggled up with her boyfriend with a Christmas movie on, she couldn't bare ruining his plans, especially given all that he did for her).
And the thing is, Harry can tell that she's borderline-miserable in the cold. But every time he asks if she wants to go home, her chapped lips form into a small smile, shaking her head, insisting that she wants to keep going.
Finally, Harry spots the hot chocolate vendor at the end of sidewalk; a much-welcomed excuse to hopefully warm his girl up.
"This place has the best hot chocolate," he says as his pace quickens slightly. If Y/N's arm wasn't looped around his, she's sure she wouldn't be able to keep up with his long stride.
"Oh, yummy," she mumbles, digging into her pocket to pull out her wallet, "Do y'wanna share one or each get one?"
"Put that away." he instantly replies with a scoff. In a second, he's produced his own wallet, quickly ordering one hot chocolate each.
"Harry," Y/N whines quietly, "You always pay for things, why couldn't you let me get this?"
"'cos I wanted to."
"That's what you always say!"
He chuckles as he graciously accepts the hot chocolates from the salesman, then hands one to Y/N without a second glance. She huffs to herself as she pulls her hands from her pockets to clutch the warm cup. It already smells heavenly, her eyes nearly fluttering shut from the coziness oozing from the warm steam.
"Seriously, will you let me get us dinner or something tonight?" Y/N asks as Harry guides them towards a bench. She's not really in the mood to perch her bum on a freezing cold slab of wood, but if today's anything to go by, she'd do anything for Harry.
"No," he replies with a cheeky grin. "I like spoiling you."
"But I don't want you to spend so much—"
"It's not about the money, Y/N," he says, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. "You deserve the very best and I will give you that. Okay?"
Truthfully, she can't tell if she's more surprised or turned on by Harry's sudden harsh tone, but nonetheless, she nods her head.
"Good. Now drink your hot chocolate, dove."
Wordlessly, she lifts the cup to her lips and takes a sip, the decedent taste instantly outweighing the slight sting of pain from the warm liquid hitting her tongue.
It's delicious, just as Harry promised. She doesn't think he could ever steer her wrong, even in the context of something small like a beverage. It's something she learned quickly into meeting him — even when they were just friends, she trusted him implicitly. Perhaps it had been naive on her part, but in all honesty, she wouldn't change it for the world. She feels so lucky to have someone who cherishes her as much as he does, even knowing all the nitty gritty details of her life.
Despite the comfortable lull in conversation, they shuffle closer until their puffer-covered arms are flush against one another. His glove-clad hand reaches out to give her thigh a small squeeze as she people watches and takes in the wintery scenery around them.
"Thank you for bringing me today," she says through cold swollen lips, "I really like it here."
He smiles. "Thank you for coming. Know you're freezing."
She giggles and takes another sip of her hot chocolate. He's just about to ask her if she's ready to head back to his place when a smattering of applause distracts them both. They turn around to see a man on one knee with an engagement ring in his hand and his girlfriend — or fiancee now — nodding her head enthusiastically. It's a picture perfect moment in front of the large decorated Christmas tree with onlookers cheering them on and taking pictures.
"'s sweet." Y/N murmurs, shifting her posture to turn back around. Harry swallows before humming quietly in agreement. He stands from his spot on the bench and holds his hand out to take her empty cup, tossing them both in the garbage can before nodding his head in the direction of the exit.
"Would you ever want something like that?" he blurts out before he can force himself to swallow the words down. She glances up at him as she loops her arm through his, burying her hand back into the warmth of his pocket.
"Like what?"
Harry shrugs. "Like... a big proposal."
"Oh," she wrinkles her nose. "I've never really thought about it, to be honest."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. I always assumed my parents would just marry me off to someone they approved of."
"I'm sorry," he mutters with a shake of his head. "That was a stupid question."
"It's alright. I guess I can think about it now."
He smiles as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn.
"Why're you asking?"
Harry clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders again. With a small smile, she bumps her arm against his, a silent and sweet encouragement to voice his thoughts.
"I think about a future for us, is all."
"You do?"
He returns her smile as they walk across the street, nodding his head. "Of course I do."
"What do you think about?"
"Well, I think about us maybe moving a little further out of the city, but not too far so I can't get to the shop every day. Maybe a dog or a cat... you're working in publishing or editing or doing whatever you want. And we're just... we're happy."
A grin flowers over Y/N's face. She wriggles her hand out of her pocket to grab Harry's, doing her best to give it a squeeze through the layers of their thick gloves.
"That sounds nice," she replies softly as they pass by the familiar shops on the way to Harry's apartment, "Do we get ever get engaged?"
Harry glances down to look at her, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Only if you want that."
She hums. "I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
She nods as they approach the front of his building.
"Only if you let me get a real Christmas tree every year."
Harry laughs.
"I'll get you one every day if you let me marry you."
. . .
December 23, 2023
"I have an early Christmas present for you."
Y/N peers up at her boyfriend over the frames of her blue light glasses. She's finally finished with finals but has been checking her grades religiously, waiting for them to be posted. With the time she unintentionally took off this semester, she had to work harder than ever to make sure she passed everything.
"Are you trying to distract me from worrying about my grades?"
With a smirk, he shrugs his shoulders boyishly. "Maybe. We both know you killed it, dovie, there's no use in stressing."
She sighs lightly and closes her laptop, placing it on the coffee table.
"Plus, you deserve a reward for doing so well," he murmurs, sitting down next to her. "Do you want your gift?"
"I feel like you're gonna give it to me regardless of what I say."
"You know me well," he says through a laugh. "Alright, close your eyes."
She does as she's told, preparing herself for something silly, like a pack of her favorite Christmas cookies or a coupon for a kiss. Instead, when Harry tells her to open them, he's holding a massive, cuddly teddy bear.
"Oh," she smiles. "This is cute. I had one just like this at my parents' place."
"I know."
It's only when her eyes flitter to his face and she sees his smirk that she realizes he's recounting much dirtier memories than her. Instantly, she blushes, remembering how he somehow figured out what she'd done with her stuffed animals in the time they'd spent apart.
"Do you wanna show me how you did it?" he nearly purrs, kneeling down so he's eye level with her, "I've thought about it almost every day since you admitted to grinding your cute little pussy on your stuffed animals, thinking of me."
She nearly chokes on her spit. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to the way Harry can flip at a moment's notice, his demeanor switching from her sweet, kind boyfriend to a hot domineering version of himself that always manages to fluster her.
The thought of doing... that in front of him is somehow humiliating, even if he's done far dirtier things to her before. Still, though, she doesn't want to disappoint him, and she can't help that the prospect of being a little embarrassed is a turn-on for her — something she only discovered because of him.
"'kay," she breathes out with a small nod of her head.
"'kay?" he echoes with a chuckle, "You wanna show me, pup?"
"Mhm."
He places the teddy bear on its back on the carpeted floor before turning back around and holding his hands out. He guides her down, pretending not to notice the tremble in her hands, and presses a kiss to the side of her head. Ducking down slightly, he tells her she doesn't have to do anything she's uncomfortable with. She's quick to shake her head and give his hand a squeeze, mumbling out, "I want to."
He hopes that she knows well enough to exercise her right to consent at any point — they've had just about a thousand conversations about it over the past few months, and Y/N always swears up and down that she'll tell him if she feels even the tiniest smidge of discomfort.
She straddles the stuffed animal between her thighs like she's done it a million times before, and it makes Harry's stomach squeeze knowing that she has. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she pulls her thin sleep shorts to the side, revealing just the smallest bit of her mound to him.
"Show me, dove," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. He places gentle hands at her hips as he slowly helps her rock forward, a breathy whimper falling from her lips almost immediately. "There you go, that's my good girl. Keep going."
She swallows harshly and repeats the same movement once more, allowing Harry's hands to fall more so in the background. He's not used to seeing his girl in control, but on the rare occasion where he does, it drives him absolutely insane.
With his knees pressing into the fluffy carpet of his living room floor, he suppresses a groan as he watches her; his sweet, soft girl in her flower-printed shorts as she trails deft fingers up to her chest, giving her breast a squeeze. His eyes roam over her body — the dimples in her thighs that appear as she grinds her hips, the slight jiggle in her ass punctuated by quiet moans. He gives her left hip a harsher squeeze to remind her that he's there and her eyes flutter open.
"Does it feel good?" he asks huskily. She nods quickly, though he can tell her thighs are beginning to strain. "Do you need daddy's help?"
He glances down to where her core meets the soft stuffing and smirks when he sees the matted material, a clear sign of her arousal dripping down. He sneaks a hand down below and cups her warm pussy.
"Let daddy have a look, yeah?" he mutters, pushing her body up so he can the study the mess between her legs. "This drippy and swollen just from humping a teddy bear?"
With flushed cheeks, she nods.
"Silly girl."
He lightly pushes her back down so her pussy makes contact with the wet spot she left behind. She gasps quietly as his hands find purchase back on her hips.
"Daddy'll help this desperate pussy cum, alright?"
In a moment, he's guiding her hips up and over the teddy bear, making it so she's doing minimal work. Her eyes fall closed again as her moans get louder and breathier, a telltale sign Harry's learned to look for and adore.
"Atta girl," he mutters lowly, "Let daddy do all the work. Can't believe how cock dumb you get from this— 's kinda pathetic, really."
"'s n-not," she utters through a whimper.
"No? 's not? Then how come you're about to cum from it?"
She wants to fight him on it, even if she normally never would. She's typically quite submissive and it's a dynamic they naturally fell into; one that they're both comfortable with. But with the growing stressors of school constantly thrumming through her brain and Harry's active attempts to teach her to better stand up for herself... well, he's the only person to blame for this sudden change in attitude, after all.
"'m not," she replies with a clenched jaw, holding in the moan threatening to spill from her spit swollen lips. He laughs humorlessly, quirking an eyebrow at her sudden boldness.
"You're not?" he asks, steadying his hands and stopping the rapid gyration of her hips. She puffs out a frustrated breath when he prevents her from moving, suddenly aware of how quickly her heart is beating. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you. I'll make sure you don't cum for days if you wanna act like a brat."
"I'm not being a brat."
Harry snorts and reaches for her hair, twisting his fist in it and pulling. She gasps.
"Say that again."
It's a threat and they both know it. He's curious to see where this goes — if she's really that set on this back-and-forth or if she's ready to be his good girl again.
With her head ducked back in his grasp, her throat bobbing with nerves, he's shocked by her response: "I'm not being a brat."
"Bullshit," he spits. In a second, the tight grip he has on her hair is released, but he's pushing her down, a hand between her shoulder blades so her core and chest are completely flush with the fluffy material. She sounds out a quick oh!, shivering slightly from the rough maneuver. "I'm done helping you. Get yourself off on your own, brat."
She feels like it's a test, but she's leaking now, humiliatingly so, so she issues a tentative roll of her hips, half-expecting some sort of teasing insult from him. He doesn't say a word but he's also removed his hands from her completely now. She feels empty without his touch, though the all-encompassing need to finish is expanding through her body, completely distracting her from any sort of normal response.
"Tell me when you're gonna cum." he says lowly. She nods, feeling his presence from behind her, almost emitting a taunting, looming air. It's only when she hears the familiar slick passes that she realizes he's not as unaffected as she assumed he was. It delivers an ego boost to her, swelling up in her chest as she moves her hips, grinding down against the fabric wet with her juices, knowing that her mean, grumpy boyfriend is watching and getting off to her.
The steady stimulation against her clit is so delicious that she's quick to get to the edge, clawing her fingernails into the carpet. Her jaw drops as she feels her muscles contracting, her eyes rolling back.
"Cum," she pants out in a whimpered tone, "G-gonna cum."
"Good girl."
She gasps from the full-body pleasure, her form shaking as she clutches to the floor for stability. Her orgasm is strong and occurs perfectly in tandem with Harry's, who she realizes is finishing just as she reaches the end of hers. She hears him groaning and it makes her clit buzz, and then feels streaks of hot cum painting her ass. She gasps out in surprise, her lower half still twitching from the intensity.
"Fuck, you're so fucking hot," Harry grunts through clenched teeth, "Fuck."
She continues laying there obediently, waiting for him to finish. She thinks she could fall asleep right here if she wanted to, but Harry is quick to maneuver his position so he's back on his knees in front of her.
"You okay, dove?" he asks gently, smoothing her hair. "Know that was a little rougher than normal. Was it okay?"
With a hazy smile, she nods. "Mhm."
"Alright," he chuckles. "I'm gonna go grab something to clean you up with. Stay here."
She listens to the sounds of him traipsing through his apartment, returning a few moments later with a damp washcloth. He cleans the mess between her thighs followed by the one he painted on her ass, then wraps an arm around her waist to guide her to his bedroom.
"Wait— I don't wanna go to sleep yet," she says with slightly rounded eyes. "It's almost Christmas and— well, we haven't, like, sat by the tree yet."
Harry raises his eyebrows, "Sat by the... tree?" he turns around, glancing at the Christmas tree they purchased a few weeks back, when Y/N originally asked if they could get a real one. If he's being honest, it was overpriced and they haven't been taking the best care of it, so he assumes it'll be dead shortly after Christmas. (He's kind of dreading having to take it out because he's nervous she'll get sad.)
"Yeah... when I was a kid, I always wanted to sit by a real Christmas tree and drink hot chocolate and watch a movie." she explains with a small shrug, "We don't have to do that though, I know you're probably tired from work—"
"I'd love to," Harry's quick to cut her off with a shake of his head. "Why don't you go and put some sweats on and I'll make our hot chocolates, okay?"
"Really?"
He chuckles softly. "Dovie, I'm not sure how you haven't realized this yet, but I would do anything for you."
Her grin is so wide that Harry hopes it never leaves her face.
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