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All  grinches look good in moose pajamas 

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i.

Y/N loved Christmas.

The smell of pine, the warmth that accompanies entering any building, the aisles upon aisles of decorations and cookie cutters shaped like santa hats. She loved the bright reds and greens, the jingle of bells, the sweet little songs chirping about snow, the reflection of her face on the blue orb ornaments. Candy canes sharpened to shivs by saliva and lips, movies filled with with joy and glee and the spirit. 

She had been incredibly excited to experience it with Harry. 

But it turns out, her once Criminology student professor now her boyfriend, was a modern day Grinch! 

Y/N hadn’t realized it until a month before Christmas, in November when the decorations started coming out in plenty, nine months into their relationship. She saw the first set of garland strung around a yard reindeer on display and cheered brightly, grabbing onto Harry’s winter coat covered bicep and squeezed, “It’s coming!” She had exclaimed, patting at him with her other hand, “I’m g’na shove so many Christmas cookies down my gob, I love this time of year.” 

Harry had furrowed his brows, “Bloody Thanksgiving hasn’t even passed,” he shakes his head. 

Pouting at him, Y/N’s eyes squinted some, “What are you telling me right now?” She let out a dramatic gasp as the realization had come upon her, “No --” 

“Christmas isn’t that great, Puppy,” he shook his head, nudging his head at the reindeer, “This guy comes out and crime rates skyrocket, s’ridiculous. Plus it rarely counts as a holiday - just proves that we are a capitalist driven society, doesn’t it? All about getting the biggest presents, having the nicest decorations - who gives a bleeding fuck about family when you have the prettiest lights on your gutter, yeah?” 

Y/N blinked at him, her mouth fell agape, “Christ, don’t tell me you let Christmas magic die after you turned twelve.” 

“Didn’t we all?” 

“Of course we all did, but you gotta pick it back up!” She cried, setting her purse in the baby seat of the cart and leaning the brunt of her body weight against it as she pushed them towards the decorations, much to Harry’s dismay, “Listen, my family was always fighting, I hit that puberty stage where it was hard to pick presents out for me and I appreciated just about nothing. The older I got the more miserable I was around Christmas, until about eighteen I realized that that was fucking boring, wasn’t it? Why not fall into the holiday season and let myself enjoy it?” She shook her head, almost immediately snatching two boxes of lights, six feet of pine colored garland, a santa mold for chocolate, and metal cookie cutters shaped like snowmen (she throws in some sprinkles and white icing but decides she’ll make the dough from scratch), “Gotta give yourself a movie Christmas, yeah? Plus,” she is a little bit ahead of him and pushes out her bum, wiggling it, “I’ve got mistletoe panties.” 

Harry huffed a laugh, grabbed at her hips and gave a squeeze, “Well that changes everything doesn’t it?” 

“It oughta, my ass is a real Christmas treat.” She grinned. 

She knew it wouldn’t be easy but she had been more than prepared. Above all things, Y/N had come to know that Harry was rather whipped for her. He was inclined to do things that made her happy and one drunken night he had told her that even if he was reluctant to do something, all she had to do was “bat those pretty little lashes” and he was done for. Which she didn’t utilize often, however, she really wanted to give him a good Christmas. She did it with all her friends who had given up on it and has had wonderful results. 

Harry was a tougher egg to crack than most, but he was awful compliant in her attempts. He sat through the movies, listened to the Christmas playlists, humored her when she placed a reindeer antler head band on him, and helped her decorate not only her flat, but his for Christmas. They put a six foot tree in his loft because he had the higher ceilings, danced around and were as mirthful as they could be. Y/N was tickled all sorts of pink by it and she could see, bit by bit, Harry was enjoying the holiday a little more than he started out, she’d say. At least he went from playfully rolling his eyes and trudging to grinning and patting at her bum, walking with a bit of pip in his step.

That’s how they ended up in their current situation; with Harry coming in from teaching his Thursday night class, scutting his shoes against the welcome rug of his flat, where Y/N spent more time than her own flat nowadays. Pelican the cat had a holly collar with a bell, Y/N had a fake fire on TV crackling, was dressed head to toe in pajamas that had moose on them with their antlers strung in big Christmas bulbs, matched with reindeer slippers. In her hands she held a matching set for him wrapped up in the smoothest, nicest, gift wrap that she could find, with a big grin, and a bat of her lashes, “I got a surprise for you,” she sing-songs, the scent of cookies permeates through the air. 

“Oh, Puppy,” he hums, shrugging off his coat, bending down to push a kiss on her forehead, then leaning down to smear his lips over her mouth as he takes the package, “Aren’t you the sweetest lil’ thing? You got me a present?” She nodded, smiling up at him, and his lips curl into a smile as he leans back in to kiss her again, deepening it, his hand cold as it presses to the nape of her neck and she squeals against his mouth. 

He peels open the paper carefully, undoing it by the tape as neatly as he could without tearing into it. When he unveils that it is a matching set of pajamas, he breaks out in a bigger grin that she would have expected - she thought she would get a more of a disappointed shake of the head and a roll of his eyes, maybe a small little smirk before reluctantly putting them on.

“They’re soft too,” she tells him, slipping her fingers into his belt loop and giving a tug, “Take ‘em off then, put those on, and tell me how your class was since you’re in such a lovely mood.” 

Harry listens to what she says, popping the button of his trousers and begins shrugging them down his thighs, “Because I realized I had the best girlfriend in the bloody world,” he tugs his legs from them, and Y/N helps him get the pants out of the packaged ribbon, handing them over to him and he stuffs his left foot in without thought, “Got to talkin’ with a few of the people in class, and they -- well, a few of ‘em were asking me for relationship advice, ‘cos I mentioned that we were doing well together. That I had a girl who saw I didn’t like Christmas and made it her mission to give me a reason to like it, and so they started askin’ how I found ya and whatnot --” he shrugs out of his orange sweater, Y/N helps by pushing the bottom of his shirt up and over his torso, “--said I was lucky, and hell wasn’t I? This one bloke, his girl broke it off with him ‘bout five days before Christmas when she was s’pposed to come with him to his family holiday. Another was a proper Scrooge about the holiday season too, and Y/N, I fuck you not Babe, she fukced off with his attractive, Christmas loving best friend.” 

Brows raised, she hands him the top, “S’good thing you didn’t have a hot, Christmas loving friend, hm?” She teases him and he pats at her head playfully, “I would never leave you -- even if you continued to Scrooge it up, I love ya too much to ditch for a “Christmas loving” best friend.” She lowers her hands, squeezing at his thighs in a pulsating motion, “Plus, nobody could be as attractive you.” 

After he fits it over his head, Y/N audibly coos at how he looks in the set and reaches underneath the couch to show him the reindeer slippers that she’d obtained for him. As he leans down to take them, Harry gives her another kiss and plops down beside her so he can pull them onto her feet. “Tell me more about why I’m the “best girlfriend in the bloody world”.” 

“I knew I shouldn’t’ve told ya’ big head,” he jests, pulling her into his side, and she rolls over enough that he can pat at her bum, Y/N giggles and snuggles closer into him, “What’s on the agenda for t’night then? I smell cookies.” 

She hums, nestling her nose in his throat, “Hmm, I think you ought’a decide,” she tells him, which is not exactly what she had had in mind -- they were going to make their Christmas list and watch the Polar Express -- but he’d made her all soft. They had been doing what she wanted to do for a solid month and one of Harry’s favorite things to do post-Thursday night class, when he doesn’t have to be up early the following morning and Y/N doesn’t have to wake up until noon-ish, he loves to watch a few episodes Peaky Blinders. However, Peaky Blinders wasn’t very Christmas-esque and had been effectively swept under the rug in her quest to make him love Christmas. Not that he necessarily complained, but as she realized it’d been a good two-three weeks since he’d been able to, she feels a small swell of guilt form in her gut, “Y’wanna watch Peaky Blinders, Babe? S’been a minute.”

He holds back a grin, “Peaky blinders is not full of mirth, Puppy, ya know that right?” 

She nods, squeezing her arm around his body, and holding herself closer to him, “Mhm, but I reckon I miss them blue eyes Cillian has.”

“Oi,” he seats at her bum this time, not hard enough for it to shoot that familiar burn that radiates across her bottom, but not soft enough for it to be classified as the sweet little taps and pats that he gives as a show of affection, “I knew you had the hots for him.”

“I know you do — soon as he’s on screen you’re a melt! Go all gooey eyed, and here I am, having to share you - I oughta be spanking you over it actually.”

Harry snorts, tilting his head down to look at her where she’s resting against his shoulder, taking the TV and turning it from the fireplace to Netflix, “S’that so?” He murmurs, sneaking his hand beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms, rubbing over the flesh covered in cotton panties. Harry squeezes as Y/N pulls the show up, kneading her some. She hums, pressing into his palm and subsequently smushing her cheek closer to him. Her bum was still a bit achy from his demonstrations last night — he’d spanked her sore and burny after she sent him photos of her tits in a red satin bra with fuzzy, puffed white trim. A collar had been clipped around her throat, the same style as the bra, with a message tied tool it requesting that he come home quick before she takes care of her soaked panties herself. 

He had come home to find Y/N in his bed, her bum in the air and her face smushed into her pillow. Harry spoke no words as he slid his leather belt from his pants — and for the first time (with ample discussion prior to this day) — he swatted her with that opposed to his palm. “Such a brat,” he had chided her, “Think you can just send anything you want, hm? What if I was showing someone something on my phone and they saw these —“ he reaches around, punctuating his statement by taking a handful of her tits and giving a good squeeze, “—didn’t even send it invisible! Shameless, baby, need Daddy to set you straight.” 

Y/N reveled in it, completely and wholly, crying out with each slap of the leather to her skin. Her heart raced, her breathing was shallow, her pussy pulsated and squeezed around nothing. Harry made her wait until her bum burned before paying any mind to where she was aching and wet for him, feeling herself slipping down the inside of her thighs. He stroked his fingers against the tender skin and soundly she had heard him taste her off them. 

“D’ya think you deserve my cock, Puppy? After how you’ve acted?” 

“I - I dunno!” she had cried out, “I don’t know Daddy, s’whatever you decide.” 

She reflects upon the moment with her lip tucked into her bottom mouth, tilting her head up so that she can smush their lips together again. He lets out a surprised squeaky noise, before a small hum as he deepens the kiss, and Y/N notes that he tastes like latte. The one that he sips on during class, purses his lips around the lid and lets the liquid nip a burn at his tongue. He chuckles against her mouth when she tongues at his bottom lip before tutting his tongue soundly and parting from her. 

“Someone’s a needy thing,” he murmurs, rubbing the tip of her nose against his and sighing sweetly, “Is it the Moose pajamas -- seeing me in ‘em is like a whole new ballpark, innit?” 

Y/N reaches up and pats at his cheek before settling back into his side, appreciating the hand that he’s left on her bum. 

“I was g’na suck you off, but now m’not.”