Three Whole Days

omfg 😫😫😫😫

WET DREAMS

A/N: basically smut without plot, exactly what i've been meaning to write lmao

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry misses you. A lot... and he shares with you the wet dreams he's been having about you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“I miss you so much, baby.”

It’s about the 30th time you’ve heard this sentence in different versions from Harry since you answered his call. I miss you, I miss you like crazy, I wish you were here, I miss your smile, your eyes, I miss your touch… Harry has been extremely vocal how miserable he is without you even though he’s been away for about a week. Some days he took the distance well, but today seems to be one of those occasions when his emotions just overflow.

“I miss you too, H. But we’ll see each other soon,” you sigh, your eyes wandering over to your vanity where a pink post-it note on the mirror is reminding you of the date Harry is returning to you. He always does this, leaves his returning date or the date you’ll be visiting him somewhere written in his handwriting on the mirror so every morning when you get ready you think of him.

“A gentle reminder,” he murmured this time when he stuck the note onto the mirror and kissed the top of your head before he continued to pack his suitcases.

“Not soon enough!” he whines like a kid and though it brings a smile to your lips you also share the feeling. It’s the downside of having a rockstar boyfriend who keeps traveling the world. “I fucking hate waking up alone. I always look for you to hold in the morning, but it’s just the empty bed.”

“I know, I hate seeing your side of the bed empty too,” you pout your bottom lip as you lie down on the bed, your free hand sliding over where he usually lies. It’s cold and awfully flat without his body weighing into the mattress.

“I’m going crazy, Y/N. I’ve been missing you like crazy. Extremely crazy.”

“It sounds like it’s different than other times,” you hum in suspicion. A heavy sigh is heard from the other end of the line and you know he is about to make a confession.

“I’ve been… having wet dreams.”

You bite into your bottom lip holding a gasp back, it’s not quite what you were expecting to hear, but it’s a pleasant surprise. A familiar, pulsing feeling takes over your core and you cross your legs involuntarily as he continues.

“I feel like a teenager, but I’ve woken up with a stiffy every fucking morning these past days and I had dreams about you,” he explains in a pained tone as if he was being tortured.

“And what were those wet dreams about?” you coo in the phone, determined to take this phone call to a more intimate direction now that he brought his frustration up. You hear him exhale and your free hand slides down your throat, imagining it to be his touch, moving it to your breasts covered by one of his shirts you’re wearing.

“Fucking you, in every possible way,” he answers and his voice has significantly dropped. You know he is getting hard already, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

“Tell me about it, H. Wanna hear how you want to fuck me, I want to know what you think about when I’m not there with you.”

Squeezing your breast your hand moves down your body, dipping under the waistband of your cotton shorts until your fingertips glide over your wet pussy that’s aching to be pleased.

“I think about stripping you out of a tight dress, your tits bounce in front of my face and I imagine taking your perfect, hardened nipples into my mouth.”

“Fuck, I would love that,” you moan, your nipples actually erecting at his words. Moving the phone from your ear you put it on speaker and drop it onto the pillow next to your head so you can use both your hands. A shaky breath is heard through the line when you bunch your shirt up and take one of your breasts into your hand, the other one remaining between your legs, gently teasing yourself.

“I think about your hands palming my cock, though my pants and then you pull it out and wrap your hands around it.”

“I love the weight of your hard cock in my hands,” you sigh and start circling your fingertips on your clit, going slow and steady for now. Harry grunts at your words and though you wish you heard it right in your ear, it still sends a shiver down your heated body.

“Are you touching yourself?” he questions eagerly.

“Yes. Are you?”

“I’m about to fucking burst, baby,” he confesses and a pleased smile spreads across your face, knowing that just the thought of you gets him so riled up. “Fuck, if I was there my head would be already between your perfect thighs, I wish I could taste you right now.”

You moan at the thought of his mouth between your legs, his tongue working magic on your desperate cunt. Your fingers work fine, but nothing compares to Harry.

“I fucking love it when your juices drip down my chin, baby. My favorite treat,” he growls and judging from the noises he is trying to replace you with his hand, moving his hand fast on his cock. You imagine him in a luxurious hotel room, between those sterile looking white sheets, one hand gripping the phone while the other is working on his erection, the pink tip already leaking from the excitement. Saliva pools in your mouth, you’d treat his cock as your favorite lollypop if he was here.

His name falls from your lips as a pained plea right when you push two fingers into yourself, curling them inside, moving them the way you like it the best, though you keep thinking about how different it is from feeling his fingers or cock inside you.

“Fuck, Y/N, I wish I could fuck you right now, I want to feel you pulse around me, I want to see you bounce on my cock,” he whines, planting the images and feelings into your head as well.

“I would ride you so good, Harry. I’d clench my pussy and milk you until you fill me up with your cum.”

“Fuck,” he curses and you can tell he is close, just like you are. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning.”

“Please!” you beg, pleasing yourself in a desperate rush, urging yourself to reach your relief before you burst.

“Oh God,” he breathes out. “Come for me, Y/N, I wanna hear your beautiful moans as you come!”

“I’m so close!” you gasp, your back arching from the mattress, toes curling as you’re nearing the edge.

“Be my good girl and come for me, baby!”

“Harry!” you whine, tears dwelling in the corners of your eyes as it just keeps building and building.

“Come, now!” he growls in an animalistic manner that pushes you over the edge and you finally fall.

Gasping for air, your orgasm washes over your body in waves as you keep the pressure on your core, riding it out to the fullest and when you hear Harry’s curse words and moans on the other end of the call you almost come again. You almost wish you recorded the way he just sounded, bathing in pure bliss, so you could listen to it whenever you wanted.

It’s silent for a long time, only your breathing travels through the call, but nothing needs to be said after the climaxes you both went through. Normally you’d be cuddling right now, your bodies would melt together, soft kisses and gentle touches ending the passionate intercourse. This time, you can only stare at the ceiling.

“If I was an absolute pig I would send you a picture of all the cum on my thighs and stomach right now,” Harry lets out a tired chuckle and you can’t hold your laughter back.

“It’s a pity it didn’t end up inside me.”

“Don’t fucking make me hard again, Y/N!” he warns you, but you just chuckle cheekily again. “I really fucking miss you.”

“Soon, baby,” you coo. “We’ll act out all your wet dreams when you return.”

“Jesus, we need to end this call, my dick can’t take another round,” he exhales. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too. Call me if you have another dream,” you murmur, taking the phone from the pillow next to you.

“Oh, I will. Sleep tight, my love.”

“Bye Harry.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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.

so cute

what sf!yn's instagram stories look like <3 (01, 02, 03)

harry's masterlist | since forever universe

BONUS: what harry's closefriends instagram stories look like <3

💘💘💘

HOLA UMA CÓMO ESTÁS TANTO TIEMPO 🩷🥺🥺

HOLAAAAAAAA

i adore this.

so I know a little while back a few ppl had asked me if I would put together a Pinterest board for some of my fics and I finally did dhihfushfu I put boards together for each of my series including my patreon exclusive and then I have an extra surprise board on there to give everyone an idea about what vibes im kind of feeling for camboy h so !!!!! ahhh pls lmk what u think!!

pinterest: https://pin.it/42Stba8

Like You’re Made of Glass {2}

A/N: send requests <3 I’ll post a list soon of some ideas I have so if you guys would vote or send requests from that list, I’d appreciate it!!

Warnings: mentions of death, angsty start, swearing, smut at the end, unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), praise kink (a little), orgasm denial

Word Count: 3.1k

Part 1 | spotify playlist

It broke Peter’s heart to leave you. He wished so much that he could lay there with you until the morning but the guilt ate him alive and it mounted with every moment he spent with you. He knew deep down that what happened between you last night was a mistake but after seeing you at that party, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. And watching you flirt with that guy burned him inside.

After you fell asleep, he lay there with you for a little while, unable to tear his eyes from your sleeping face and for the first time in eight months, he felt complete. At some point though, he knew reality had to set back in and he gathered the strength to get dressed and slip out your window into the icy air of New York.

Keep reading

peer pressure

summary: you had never given in to peer pressure; however, you couldn’t help but give in to your best friend’s. — or, in which frat!rafe realized he didn’t want to be your best friend anymore. (inspired by peer pressure by julia michaels and james bay)

pairing: frat!rafe x innocent bestfriend!reader

a/n: in my head this was supposed to be much more sexy than fluffy but i’m a flangst slut and i can’t help it. i’m kinda insecure about some parts but i really wanted to post it so i hope you like it! and big thanks to @tee-swizzle for being the sweetest person on earth and supporting me when i thought everything about this was shit lol (also i probably should’ve proofread it one more time but i’m too lazy and tired to do that)

warnings: SMUT 18+!!, innocence kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, loss of virginity, alcohol, rafe chokes someone (oops), lil bit of angst but mostly fluff towards the end

word count: 9.9k

my masterlist

add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3

You had always hated those loud college parties, mixed with a fog of alcohol and smoke and a crowd of horny students, ready to find their companion for the rest of the night. And yet, there you were, doing exactly what everyone was.

You had never gotten drunk, however the knowledge that your best friend was there for you, protecting you like he always did, had convinced you to try a drink, or three, maybe five? Well, the number of drinks you had had wasn’t important, you still had another in your hand as you swayed your hips to the music.

You were standing on a table in the middle of the living room of the frat house where the party was taking place, raising your arms and unconsciously making your crop top reveal even more your naked skin. You could hear some men cheering and laughing, but you obliviously didn’t believe that those were about you.

Suddenly, a hand started tugging on your wrist, pointing your attention to the owner; a smile broke out on your face at the sight of your best friend, although he didn’t look much happy.

“What are you doing up there? Get down!” He shouted to make sure you heard him through the loud music.

To say Rafe was furious is an understatement; every single guy was eyeing you even from across the room, the drunk girl that was half naked and was dancing for anyone to see.

“But I’m having fun!” Your pouting lips would’ve absolutely floored him if he hadn’t been too busy with assuring that you were safe and away from some of the perverts that were hanging out at the party.

He said your name sternly and when you looked at his expression, you couldn’t disobey him. Every time he gazed at you with those piercing blue eyes and that unreadable look in them, you became putty in his hands, and you were pretty sure he knew it.

You accepted his hand and let him help you sit on the table you were previously standing on and then leave the surface, your feet thumping on the ground as you jumped off. He didn’t say anything as he led you upstairs and walked you towards his room.

When you got to the door, you turned around to face him and threw your arms around his neck, studying his face as a confused look began to form on his features. Your hands slowly fell from their previous position to his chest while his breath itched at the contact; you had never been so forward.

“You’re pretty,” you giggled.

He chuckled at your words, “thanks, sweetheart,” his fingers gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and your eyes closed at the wonderful feeling that was his touch, “let’s get you to bed now, mh?”

You whined and looked up at him, “I don’t wanna! Wanna stay here with you.”

“I’ll stay with you, don’t worry.”

Rafe leaned in to open the door but you took advantage of the situation and placed your hands on his cheeks, bringing his face close to yours as you pecked his lips. His eyes widened and you giggled again before kissing his mouth, savoring the feeling of his soft lips brushing against yours. A hand was gently placed on your waist, keeping you close to his body. Rafe completely forgot about your state for a second, he had been dreaming about the taste of your mouth and of your cherry chapstick since the moment he had met you.

Your lips slightly parted on their own and he got a taste of the strong alcohol on your breath, reminding him of what he was doing.

Shit.

He, reluctantly, pulled away, “you’re drunk.”

“‘m not,” you slurred, reaching for the collar of his polo shirt to bring him down again, but he pushed you away.

“You should go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Rafe opened the door that was behind you and gently pushed you inside as you stumbled a little, his hands the only reason why you were still standing on your feet. You threw yourself on his bed and nuzzled your head against his pillow as he lowly chuckled at your antics. He had never seen you like this and he had to admit that seeing you drunk for the first time was a sight, although his hands itched to touch you again.

He brought you some water and made you sit up, before he brought the small bottle to your lips. Once you drank enough and pulled away from the plastic, you let your hand cradle his face again as you tilted your head to the side, admiring his features.

“You’re a good friend, Rafe,” you sighed.

He sent you a sweet smile and softly kissed your forehead, “goodnight, pretty girl.”

“Mhh, night,” your head hit the comfortable pillow, Rafe’s scent crowding your senses, “I liked the kiss, by the way.”

He swore he almost choked on his own spit, but when he looked at you, you had already fallen asleep, leaving him a confused mess.

You and Rafe had been friends for a year, and became really close, so much that you believed you were each other’s best friend. There wasn’t one thing that he wouldn’t do for you and it was obvious to anyone how much affection there was between you, which made jealousy grow among your peers. You see, Rafe was hot, that’s how every single person on campus described him, and it wasn’t a secret that lots of people had a crush on him. He’d had his long line of meaningless hookups and yet, for some reason, he wanted you in a different way. Was he madly attracted to you? Of course, but there was something else that lured him in your arms, and that was a first for him. He craved you, everyday, and the way you always batted those pretty eyelashes at him, innocently, as if you didn’t know what you were doing to him, drove him insane. The thing was, you really didn’t know what you were doing, and although you and him had been friends for a long time, he didn’t know how much inexperienced you were. However, Rafe wasn’t the only person that people gawk at when he walked into a class or a party; you spent so much time at the frat house he lived at that lots of guys had taken interest in you, but you were oblivious to their advances…or at least when they still tried to flirt with you. Once word got around of how protective your best friend was of you, no one tried to be more than just friendly.

Unbeknownst to him, Rafe had been your first kiss and the only thing that you regretted was that you had been so drunk that he probably thought you didn’t want it; but you did.

That night, he couldn’t get you out of his head. His dirty mind kept thinking about your hands on his chest, and what if he had been shirtless? Your perfectly manicured nails raking down his naked skin, his lips pressed against your neck; he dreamed about the sound of your whimpers and moans of his name. He had never wanted someone so badly, he wanted to make you his and let everyone know that they weren’t allowed to touch his girl.

The morning after, you woke up with a pounding headache, wrapped in the covers of Rafe’s bed as he slept on the floor, a pillow and a couple of blankets the only things that kept him comfortable. You couldn’t really remember much of the night before, but you sure as hell knew that you had gotten drunk and that your friend had taken care of you, which made a smile creep up on your face.

You looked down at him and at his perfect features, analyzing everything about his sleeping expression: his beautiful eyes were closed, his mouth was slightly agape as soft snores came out of it, his hair was a mess and you had to stop yourself from reaching down and run your fingers through it.

“‘S not nice to stare, y’know?” Rafe’s voice pulled you out of your trance and a rosy blush formed on your cheeks at his words.

“Sorry, I was-“

He chuckled, “I was just kidding, sweetheart,” he stretched his tired and stiff limbs before resting his weight on his elbows to look up at you, “how you feeling?”

You snuggled further into the pillow under your head, enjoying the fact that it still smelled like your favorite boy, “my head hurts.”

He all but giggled at the sight of your pout, but it didn’t last long for it reminded him of when you had pressed your perfect lips against his and had made him a flustered mess. He raised from the floor and started rummaging through your bag, knowing full well you had to had something for your headache, and you did. He walked back to his bed and sat next to you as he handed you the aspirin and the water bottle that was still on his bedside table from the night before. You sent him a weak smile in appreciation, melting his insides at the sight, and downed the pill by tipping your head back.

Once you had managed to swallow the medicine, he completely laid his legs on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his whole body aching to have you close to him. You accepted the gesture and cuddled closer to him, resting your arm around his torso.

“Thank you,” you mumbled before relaxing completely against him chest.

Did you remember about the kiss? That was what Rafe kept wondering about. Was that just a drunk mistake or was there something else beneath it? Did you want it?

To be honest, you didn’t remember; not at first, at least. But even when the memories began to come back to you, you were so embarrassed that your true feelings for him had been spilled that you couldn’t talk to him about, and neither did he. Weeks went by and nothing ever came up, between exams and Rafe getting sick, there was never a good time. You didn’t forget about the things he had said to you when he was delirious from his high fever: “y’know how i feel ‘bout you, darlin’; ‘s not a secret. When you kissed me that night - shit. Was so glad you were drunk, ‘cause if you hadn’t been, ‘m not sure i would’ve been able to stop.”

The words replayed in your head like a broken record. Had he meant them? How could you have ever known how he felt about you? He was supposed to be your best friend, for God’s sake!

Therefore you tried to push away all of your instincts, and so did he. Until one night, you dropped the bomb.

You were in the living room, sitting on the couch with your legs propped up on Rafe’s lap, some of the guys were sprawled out on the couch opposite to yours and on the floor as you all went around asking some questions about each other. It was supposed to be a bonding moment for them, but they had also invited you, claiming that you were an honorary member and deserved to be there; you had been so happy when Rafe had told you how important that was.

Nate, your best friend’s roommate, had just finished talking about the first time he had gotten drunk and his parents had grounded him for trying to enter his house by breaking his window, when he turned to you, ready to ask you something about yourself.

“Alright, Y/n, tell us about…your first kiss,” he asked nonchalantly, after all they had all answered to much more personal questions, hell, one of them had described their first time, which wasn’t pretty at all, but you still felt on display. None of them knew the truth and although he had probably asked that question because he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with a more personal one, you couldn’t shake off the blush on your cheeks.

You were pretty sure the tips of your ears turned bright red as you avoided everyone else’s eyes, especially Rafe’s, although you wished he would have come to your rescue and told him to change the question; instead, he turned his head to you, slightly tilting his head.

“Y’know, you’ve never told me ‘bout it,” he said, curiosity, and obliviousness, clear in his tone.

Of course, you couldn’t sense the jealousy laced in his voice.

“C’mon, we don’t need the details! At least tell us who it was with,” Nate inquired, not realizing that your shyness wasn’t about the kiss itself but the person you had shared it with.

“It was with…uhm, Rafe,” you mumbled, barely audible as they all stared at you, none of them understanding what you had just said.

“What?” One of the guys asked.

You took a deep breath, “I said,” you swallowed thickly, “it was with Rafe.”

Some of them chuckled and others clapped, while a couple of ‘i knew it’ and ‘i sure don’t do that with my best friend’ rang across the room. You tentatively turned to him, his eyes ready to pop out of his skull. What you didn’t know was that you had turned him on with just a couple of words, no way you had never kissed anyone; he knew you weren’t experienced in that area, but God, the fact that you were that inexperienced had made him, for some reason, so feral that he wanted to be the one to take the rest of your firsts, he wanted them to belong to him and no one else’s.

Rafe stood up and took your hand as he wordlessly led you outside the room, the guys’ cheering loud and clear while he flipped them without even turning around. He brought you to his room, not a word shared between you as he closed the door.

“Rafe, listen,” you tried to finally break the excruciating silence but he stopped you, gazing at you from across the room.

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“Is it true that I was your first kiss or did you just say that for giggles and shit?” His voice was firm and he almost sounded angry as he was determined on keeping his distance from you.

“Why would I lie about that? Of course it’s true!”

He took a couple of steps towards you as you were leaned against his desk; your position gave him a good show of your exposed legs from your short skirt and he had to use all of his self control to stop looking at them and focus on your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice lowered and the air thickened around you.

You shrugged, “you never asked.”

His intense gaze made something you couldn’t put a name to grow in you; actually, you knew what it was, what he had made you feel for a while since your first kiss, and maybe even before that: desire; and yet you still lied to yourself about your feelings for your best friend. The more he walked closer to you, the more the feeling grew and you didn’t know how to stop it.

He licked his lips and looked away for a moment, “I didn’t know you could remember that night.”

“I was drunk and it was the first time so I couldn’t remember who the kiss was with nor the details,” you sighed heavily as you threw your head back for a second, showing him your neck and everything in him ached to mark your perfect skin up, “I realized it was you only a couple of days later.”

He took another step, his legs brushing against yours.

“You never brought it up.”

“Neither did you,” you broke eye contact, too embarrassed to let him see the contrasting emotions written all over your face, “why are we talking about this, Rafe? What’s the problem?”

He completely hovered over you, his hands on either side of your body as he rested his weight on them; you had to tilt your head back to look at him, so close that you could feel his heavy breaths.

“The problem is that I didn’t want our first kiss to happen like that,” he rasped.

You swallowed, looking into his ocean blue eyes, which had gotten darker, more intense, as he stared down at you. You tried not to tremble under his gaze; no one had ever made you feel like he did.

“How was it supposed to happen?” you whispered.

He bent his head to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers up your spine as his lips brushed against your lobe, “I was supposed to take you in my arms and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe anymore.”

Goosebumps littered your skin, the little hairs on your neck standing straight as he kissed your jaw once, then your neck, before continuing his speech with his lips against your skin, “until our lips were swollen,” another kiss, “and you could barely think about anything else but me,” your hand instinctively flew in his hair to gently push it out of his face as a smirk etched onto his mouth. A not at all unfamiliar sensation began growing between your legs, which made you press them together and, thankfully, he didn’t notice, too entranced by the way your chest heaved up and down due to your labored breathing.

“I wanted you to be sober so that you would remember every single detail ‘bout your first kiss,” you swallowed thickly when his lips traveled next to your ear again and his last words were all but a possessive growl while he restrained himself from putting his hands on you, “and that it belonged to me.”

Finally, he raised his head to look at you and he touched your forehead with his, your heavy breaths mixing-

“Hey!” a loud knock came from the door, startling you, “you guys fucking or something?”

Rafe lowly groaned in frustration and slightly pulled away from you as you exhaled, your mouth dry all of a sudden.

“What do you want, Nate?” Rafe shouted in order to let his roommate hear him from the other side of the door.

“I need my charger! C’mon, man, open up.”

His gaze fell on you one more time, his jaw clenched while you were still taking deep breaths in the same position. When another annoying knock rang through the room, Rafe turned around and went to open the door, revealing a smirking Nate.

“Did I interrupt something?”

You interjected immediately, walking past your best friend, “no, don’t worry. I was just leaving.”

His hand wrapped around your arm, stopping your movements, “wait. We have to talk.”

You looked at him and then at Nate, awkwardly leaning against the door frame, “I have to go.”

He let you go, cursing under his breath as he watched you speed walking down the stairs.

“What d’you do to her?”

Rafe sent his roommate a death stare, at which he just raised his hands in defense.

Later that night, he couldn’t fall asleep. The feeling of your smooth skin against his lips was still fresh on his mind, the feeling of your fingers in his hair and the sound of your breathing haunted him. He knew you wanted him too and once he realized that, he wouldn’t stop until you were his.

In your whole life you’d had people who tried to get you to bed, unaware of your lack of experience, but you had never been interested in sharing your first time with any of them; and yet, when Rafe’s mouth had left a trail of wet and soft kisses down your neck, a warmth had started spreading through your body, igniting a fire no one had ever managed to do before. You had left in such a hurry because you didn’t want him to see you in that state and you were embarrassed about how with just some simple and light touches he had managed to turn you into a mess.

As you lied on your bed, you kept turning, his words and his touch still lingered in your mind; the way he said that your first kiss belonged to him made you wonder what he really meant, did he want you to belong to him?

The more you thought about it, the more that sensation between your legs grew, and although it wouldn’t have been the first time you tried to get rid of it, you knew that in that moment he was the only one who could’ve satisfy it. Instinctively, your hand reached for your phone and, without even thinking twice, you clicked on his contact.

Rafe was surprised to hear the vibrations of his phone at almost three in the morning, but when he read your name on the display, he answered immediately.

“Hey,” his eyes fell on the sleeping figure of his roommate, reminding himself that he didn’t want him to listen in that conversation.

“Hey,” your voice showed a shortness of breath and he picked up on it instantly for he had been reminiscing about the sound of your gasps for hours.

His feet were already taking him outside his room when he talked again, “why are you calling me at three in the morning?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip and you were thankful he couldn’t see you because you knew he would’ve understood your reasons in a heartbeat otherwise.

“I…uhm-“ you cleared your throat, his deep and raspy voice only making your problem grow even more, “I wanted to apologize for…you know, leaving like that earlier.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at the weird tone of your voice while his back collided with the door as he closed it behind him.

“Is that the only reason why you called me?” He wanted to sound confused but instead the words came out in a breathy rasp and you hated the effect that it had on you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, you should’ve,” he interrupted you, “I just want to know why, sweetheart.”

He was taunting you, he needed to hear you say how much you wanted him, that you craved him just as much as he did you.

“M-maybe, I should go to sleep.”

He smirked and closed his eyes as he gently threw his head back against the door, “are you sure ‘bout that?” He licked his lips, “I could come over and pick you up, if you want.”

You sucked in a breath, the proposal tempting and scary at the same time, “I - I’m going to sleep, Rafe. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Your heart was trying to jump out of your chest. You were afraid of the things he made you feel, of the things that you wanted him to do to you, why were you having all of those newfound sensations because of him?

You knew you couldn’t face him. How could you? The thought of having him close to you just like that night was enough to make your skin burn, your cheeks flushed at the images you created in your head. Did he feel the same when he was around you or was he making fun of your vulnerability?

When you entered the only class you shared with him the morning after, you completely ignored him. Usually, you sat beside him, but that day you didn’t have the guts to do that. Why had you called him the night before? You could sense your friendship with him crumbling into pieces as his eyes burned a hole behind your head, for you sat a couple of rows in front of him.

Rafe was dumbfounded. Were you really ignoring him? Maybe you hadn’t seen him, he thought. Once the class was over, he walked to you, getting your attention by calling your name, however you only sent him a quick smile and all but ran to your next lesson. That was how he got the proof that confirmed his worries: you didn’t want to talk to him.

He hadn’t scared you off, did he? You were his best friend, had he taken it too far?

When you didn’t show up at the house either that day, which you did almost everyday, he got impatient.

“Where’s Y/n?” One of the guys asked him as the sight of a lonely Rafe, sprawled out on the couch of the common room, was rare. You were always under his arm.

“Busy,” he only said. They didn’t have to know what had happened between you two. It was his business and he had to deal with it.

Truth be told, Nate figured it out pretty quickly. Perhaps he knew his friend really well, or maybe it was because he was having a secret affair with your roommate and he knew pretty well that you were at home, doing absolutely nothing…who knows? But hey, if Rafe didn’t want to talk about it, he wasn’t obliged to give him information on your whereabouts. Plus, it was fun to see his friend so worked up about you, he had never seen him like that.

When Nate walked into the room, Rafe was fidgeting with his phone, contemplating if calling you was the right thing to do.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up, Nate.”

He sat next to him, a stupid grin on his face, or at least to Rafe it looked stupid, “c’mooon, just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing.”

“Oh yeah, is that why she’s not here today? Man, she’s here all day, everyday. I’m not complaining, I like her, but y’know, her not being here and you with that pathetic look on your face…it’s weird.”

Rafe groaned, “should I call her?”

Nate shrugged, “it depends. Did you scare her or something? ‘Cause if you did, maybe you should just text her…or wait a little while; give her space.”

He sighed, “yeah, you’re right.”

“So, you scared her?”

The blue eyed friend raised from the couch, without giving him an answer, and patted his friend on the shoulder, “see ya later, man.”

Sure, his roommate was right; he had to give you some space, some time to think. But he also had to know how you were, it was killing him inside not knowing what you were doing or who you were with. A simple, “hey, what’s up?” was casual, right? You didn’t need to be afraid of such a routine question.

He sent the text and threw his phone on the bed as his hands flew in his hair, tugging on it in frustration. He didn’t want to mess what he had with you, but he was aware that he couldn’t be your friend; not anymore, not like he used to. His head was filled with images of you and it wasn’t just about his physical attraction for he couldn’t stop thinking about your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, your kindness, that beautiful and heartwarming laugh you had whenever you talked with him and only him, the way you were so gentle with him.

He was in deep, and he was aware that it couldn’t have been with anyone else but you.

“Are you seriously not gonna answer the poor boy?”

You were lying on your bed when your roommate, Camille, pointed out how you were ignoring your best friend. Nobody knew what had happened, and to be honest there wasn’t really much to talk about; nothing happened and yet it felt like everything did.

“I just don’t feel like talking.”

She rolled her eyes, “at least tell him you’re alive.”

You gave her a pointed look and she only raised her hands in defense before leaving the room. What if he was only looking for a way to let you down easily? What if he wanted you for one night, just to forget about you the morning after like all of the other girls? You couldn’t bear it.

“Hey,” Camille’s head peeked through the crack of the slightly ajar door, “your boy just texted me; he wants to know if you’re okay. What should i tell him?”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit that, unbeknownst to you, drove Rafe crazy. He only wanted to know if everything was okay, that was it.

“Tell him I’m okay but…I have an exam soon and I have to study.”

It was a lie. You knew that, Camille did too, hell, even Rafe was aware that it was bullshit. Still, he didn’t pry. If space was what you needed, he was going to give you just that.

Until he couldn’t anymore.

He was trying to study in the common room, the noises and voices around him helping him to concentrate for some reason, still it was impossible to do so when you kept running through his mind. The sweet sound of your laugh kept replaying in his head for he missed it like you miss air after being under water for so long, and he couldn’t wait to resurface. It had been a couple of days since the last time he had touched you and he was aching all over to just have you next to him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard someone say your name and he turned around like a madman.

“Yo, is Y/n coming tonight?” one of the guys, Tommy, asked to the other.

“I texted her and she said she’ll be here.”

Jealousy began bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Were the others so important that you could answer to their texts but not his? And why did they want your presence there that night? You were his girl, what did they want from you?

He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, he swore his feet unconsciously brought him to where the two men where standing.

“Hey, what’s tonight?” He tried to sound casual, but the fire in his eyes said otherwise.

Tommy shrugged, “just a party. You coming?”

“Why did you want to know if Y/n was coming?”

The other guy, Matthew, slowly tried to get out of the conversation, leaving the other to his own destiny.

“She’s always here. Thought she wanted to come and she does.”

“She’s my girl. You could’ve asked me.”

Rafe knew it was wrong to call you his, you weren’t…officially, however he didn’t care; you were his girl, his best friend, his pretty angel. only his.

“You gotta let this thing go, man. She’s not yours,” Tommy chuckled mockingly, “when was the last time you heard from her? ‘S not like she can wait ‘round forever.”

He clenched his jaw, anger and frustration coming to him all at once, “you like her, Tommy? Mh? Is that it?”

“You see, Rafe, I know lots of people here who are dying to put their hands on her. It’s just a matter of time before-“

Rafe’s hands flew to his throat, pushing him against a wall as all he could see was red. No one could talk about you like that.

“You better tell those people that Rafe Cameron’s girl is not to be touched. I hear one more word about her and,” he chuckled lowly just like Tommy had before, “I don’t think you want to find out, do you?”

Tommy’s face was flushed while his hands gripped the wrists of the man that was in front of him, pleading him with his eyes to let him go. After a stare down, he did and the curly haired man coughed violently as he tried to regain his breath. Rafe only turned around and walked up the stairs to his room; if you were coming to the house that evening, then he had to be there too.

The walk to the house was almost a torture; Camille dragged you to the entrance, claiming that you had to let loose and live your own life. Most of all, you knew she wanted you to talk to Rafe and you didn’t know if the feeling you had at the thought of seeing him again was fear of rejection or excitement.

After a while, you decided to step outside and enjoy the night air, the soft breeze in your hair making you close your eyes and ground yourself for you were worried about seeing your best friend again. You and him had been through so many good memories that it scared you to think that you might’ve not made some more because of a stupid moment of lack of judgement and self control. You absolutely adored him and the way he cared for you and never judged you, how he always made you feel like you were a huge part of his life and that he wanted you there, for as long as he could’ve; you would’ve never changed those feelings for all of the gold in the world.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you and making your heart fall in your stomach.

You turned around, a sweet smile on your face, “Camille made me.”

Rafe walked closer to you, revealing himself as the moonlight shone on him. The white button up shirt made him look like a Greek God and the fact that his chest was almost completely exposed didn’t help with the amount of nerves you were dealing with.

“Right. So, are you going to talk to me now?”

He gave you a sympathetic grin and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

You sighed and declared defeat, “I’m sorry, Rafe. I was - I am embarrassed.” You corrected yourself, knowing that the humiliation was still fresh on your mind.

He furrowed his eyebrows and the confused look on his features told you he really didn’t know what you were talking about. Why were you embarrassed? He was the one who had openly told you he wanted you; you should’ve been angry, not embarrassed.

“What? I thought you were mad at me.”

“Why would I be? You did nothing wrong—“ suddenly, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him and your faces were only inches away from each other. You sucked in a breath at the quick movement and instinctively put a hand on his chest as to balance yourself, however it fell on his naked skin, burning at your touch, “w-what are you doing?”

He looked behind you and nodded to someone that you couldn’t see, “sorry, that guy was staring at you,” he whispered.

You bit your bottom lip while you could feel his heart beating fast under your palm, “why do you care?”

It was a genuine question; why would he have cared about someone else watching you? Or someone else wanting to touch you?

And after all that time, you still couldn’t understand that he wanted to be the only one that was allowed to feel you, to kiss you, to make you tremble under his gaze.

His voice was merely a sigh when he answered, “you know why. Let’s not kid ourselves here, sweetheart.”

You put some distance between you, finally fed up with the way he believed it was always obvious what he was feeling. He had done it that night when you had confessed about the kiss, telling you how much he wanted you as if it shouldn’t have been news to you, but it was. You were good in school, with friendships, with your family, however, when it came to real feelings, romantic relationships, you knew nothing.

“I don’t know,” you slightly raised your voice for you wanted to make sure he understood your frustration, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Rafe. If there’s something I should know, you have to tell me, I can’t read your mind.”

The look in his eyes was saying a million words as he stared down at your figure, still standing in his arms. He nodded in thought, “not here,” his arm fell from your waist and reached for your hand, “c’mon.”

You accepted it and let him take you into the house and up the stairs; the scene reminded you of the day you had kissed him: Rafe gently guiding you to his room, everyone around you drunk and dancing around, your back pressed against his door as you giggled and lifted yourself on your toes to kiss him. The memory made you almost shudder, the feeling of his lips against yours a recurring dream.

Rafe slowly pushed you inside and closed the door behind you as your back rested against it. You swallowed thickly as you looked up at him and the sight reminded you of the last time you had been in the same room alone with him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/n. I can’t stand us being so distant.”

The pain in his eyes was evident and you only wanted to wrap your arms around him, “me neither.”

He ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed it down his face for a second, as if he was trying to recollect his thoughts.

“What happened between us…I -“ he sighed loudly, “I have so many things I want to say.”

And there you were again, batting your pretty eyelashes at him and slightly tilting your head to the side as you tried to understand what was going on in his head and giving him heart palpitations in the process.

“Then say them,” you breathed.

He looked away for a second before setting his gaze on your figure again, “shit - you don’t understand, sweetheart. Thought I could do this, that once I was in front of you, I could’ve just told you how I feel; but now that I’m here — fuck. You’re making me lose control.”

When had breathing started to become an impossible task around him?

He took a step closer to you, “tell me why you called me the other night.”

Your breath was knocked out of your lungs; you swallowed thickly as you decided to act clueless, “what are you talking about?”

You avoided his eyes, although the closeness made it quite impossible.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he murmured, his arms caging you between him and the wall behind you.

“Rafe, I-“

Your words died in your throat when his nose lightly brushed against your skin, his hot breath on your cheek, “I want the truth, sweetheart.”

Your teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, “I wanted to hear your voice.”

He softly kissed your jaw, “what else?”

You closed your eyes and you swore your heart was about to jump out of your chest, “I - I needed you, Rafe.”

The words came out almost like a desperate whine and they went straight to his pants. The fact that you were wearing that damn short dress that always made his head spin wasn’t helping with his problem either.

“What did you need from me?”

“Please.”

He raised his head and pressed his forehead against yours, your lips inches away from each other, “tell me what you needed, sweetheart.”

His hooded eyes, full of lust and desire, were only making your ability to speak even more impossible, “I’ve never done this, Rafe.”

His fingers gently threaded through your hair, pushing a strand out of your face and cupping your cheek in the process, “I know. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, I promise.”

You kept eye contact as your hand slowly went on his bare chest and he sucked in a breath; he didn’t expect that, that was for sure. The palm of your hand lazily slipped down to the first button of the half done shirt and opened it, feeling the hot and naked skin underneath.

“I want to,” you whispered.

He didn’t waste a second before he pressed his mouth against yours in a hot and sloppy kiss. Finally, he tasted your cherry chapstick again, the one he had been dreaming about for weeks. The softness of your lips made him feral for he wanted to feel the rest of your body on his lips as well. One arm was wrapped around your lower back while the other rested between your shoulder blades, keeping you in place and you were sure that if it hadn’t been for his strength, you would’ve turned into a puddle on the floor.

Your hands ran through his hair and when he seductively took your bottom lip between his teeth, you tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. The groan he let out at the unexpected action made your insides feel warm, but not as much as when his arm fell from your back to your behind, until it reached your exposed thigh and wrapped his hand around it to bring it around his hip. His whole body was pressing yours against the wooden door and the new position allowed you to feel the growing bulge in his pants against your lower stomach. Your skin was burning at his touch and yet you needed more; of what you weren’t sure.

As the kiss turned less heated and more gentle, his lips abandoned yours and began leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck as the the sound of your heavy breaths filled the room. You instinctively arched your back and tilted your head to give him more access, the action making him all but growl against your skin. His lips slowly traveled back to yours and pecked them once more before resting his forehead on yours, breaths mixing.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?”

You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked up at him, his voice was so raw and raspy that it had made you feel even dizzier than what you already were.

You nodded.

His free hand came up to cup your face, “I need words, pretty girl.”

“I’m sure.”

Rafe kissed you again and let go of your leg, but it didn’t last long as both of his hands traveled down to your ass, gently squeezing it and making you moan in his mouth in the process. You were both surprised at the sound but it had made him even harder and he knew he couldn’t wait to absolutely devour you, to make you realize just how much he wanted - needed you.

His hands grabbed the skin just below the curve of your ass and you automatically jumped to wrap your legs around his midsection. He didn’t waste any time and walked towards his bed, he sat on the mattress as you remained in his lap and your dress rode up to allow you to sit with your legs on either side of him. Rafe had to stop himself from taking you right then and there, looking so sweet and innocent as you were basically grinding down on his bulge.

“You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy, baby. You know that?” He groaned out with his lips attached to your neck before he started to suck on your perfect and soft skin.

In the end he got what he wanted: to mark your skin up and claim you as his.

You moaned out his name and gripped his hair, forcing him to look at you, “you need something, sweetheart?” He rasped out, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

His hands forced you down on his clothed cock again and you gasped, “do something,” you whined out.

He tugged on the bottom of your dress, which rested around your hips, “can I take this off?”

You knew you had to be a flustered mess, “I’m not wearing a bra,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

He let his head fall on your collarbone and groaned at your words, never had he ever wanted someone so bad. You lightly chuckled at his antics but the blush on your cheeks was still there, “‘s that a yes?” He asked jokingly, although his patience was starting to slip from his fingers.

“Yes.”

He finally slipped your dress off your body and threw it on the floor before placing his hands behind him and resting his weight on them. He licked his lips at the sight of your perked up nipples, your perfect breasts that he’d had dreams about holding in his hands, so many times he had lost count. Your chest lifted up and down quickly as he stared at your naked body that was prettily sitting on his lap while he was still completely clothed.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked shyly, his gaze was so intense you felt your whole body catching on fire under his stare. Your arms instinctively flew to your chest to cover it, beginning to feel self conscious, but he stopped you immediately.

“I’m just enjoying the view, sweetheart. Don’t cover yourself up,” his hands traveled up from your upper thighs to your waist until they reached the side of your breasts, “you’re so damn beautiful.”

He took your wrists in his hands and brought them to his chest and you immediately began to unbutton the last bits of his shirt, leaving his torso completely bare in front of you. You pushed his shirt off his shoulders and you admired his sculpted body, the thought of having him all to yourself was enough to make you feel hot all over again. In one swift motion, he wrapped one arm around your torso and manhandled you to rest your back on the mattress. You giggled as you looked up at him and his heart skipped a beat at the sound. He was done, you had completely ruined him without even taking his pants off. He grinned at you before claiming your mouth once again while his hands explored your body, groping your chest and gently rolling one of your nipples between his fingers; you shuddered at the feeling, it wasn’t new, but no one had ever touched you like that and it was sending a thousand sparks throughout your body.

He bent down to take one nipple in his mouth and your back arched off the bed while you could feel your panties getting wetter every second, you knew you were a mess between your legs. As if he could’ve listened to your thoughts, his hand slipped down to your clothed cunt and cupped it. When he growled around your hardened bud, you realized he had found out how wet you were.

“Fuck, what are you doin’ to me?” He mumbled. His kisses traveled down your stomach and then right above your panties. He looked up at you as he played with the elastic of your underwear, his whole body ached to just taste you, “can i, sweetheart?”

You rested your weight on your elbows, “yes…please.”

He smirked at your neediness and slipped the last piece of clothing that remained on your body, leaving you bare in front of his hungry eyes. He marveled at the sight of your wet and sweet cunt; his dick twitched as he opened you up with his thumbs, your thighs already thrown over his shoulders. Finally, he licked a long stripe along your folds and you both moaned at the sensation. Your hand flew to his hair, scratching his scalp as a whine of his name left your puffed lips, the sound like a melody you never want to stop listening to. He ate you out slowly at first, trying to make you feel comfortable, until you started to unconsciously grind against his face, taking away that last bit of self control he had left. He began licking and sucking on your clit like a starved man, as if that was his last meal and he wanted to savor every minute of it until he couldn’t physically move anymore. The sound of your moans only spurred him on as he wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling, and your eyes rolled behind your head at the newfound sensation.

He slightly lifted his head, leaving you a needy mess, “have you ever touched yourself, baby?”

The question was sweet, it would’ve sounded even innocent by his tone if it hadn’t been for the lewd acts he was talking about. You nodded slightly, not trusting your words.

“Yeah? You ever think about me when you do that?”

He had been waiting to know the answer to that question for days. Perhaps he had a dirty mind, but he couldn’t shake off the image of his pretty and innocent looking best friend touching herself as she moaned his name. The thought alone could’ve made him cum on the spot like a horny teenager.

You swallowed thickly, you were so embarrassed and turned on at the same time.

“Yes, Rafe,” you breathed out, the tension between you thick, “all the time.”

He grabbed your thighs tighter before burying his face in your cunt again and the sudden motion had almost made you scream. The pleasure and the vibrations caused by his growls were too much.

When his finger teased your entrance, you felt your whole body tremble. He sinked one finger inside you, so tight that he couldn’t wait to have you wrapped around his big cock. His sucking motions on your clit never stopped as he added a second finger and curled them inside you, hitting that spot that made you shake and thrash. You could barely keep your legs still when you began to clench around his digits repeatedly, and he kept plunging them inside you, riding out your high as you took deep breaths.

His tongue never stopped lapping at your juices, until you gently pushed his head away. He kissed his way up to your lips again, “you taste like a fucking dream,” he said before crashing his mouth on yours. You could taste yourself on his lips and it felt so lewd and hot, you wanted more of him. You placed your hands on his back, slowly raking your fingers down and reaching to his pants; you began to unbutton his jeans when he stopped you.

“Wait,” his hand wrapped around your wrist, “we don’t have to do anything else if you don’t feel ready, sweetheart, okay? Don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. Tonight’s about you.”

You nodded, “what if I wanted to do this?” You whispered.

He smirked and pecked your lips, “then let me make you feel good, yeah?”

He let you push his pants down and he finished getting rid of them himself, kneeling in front of you in only his boxers. He reached for his bedside table and pulled condom from the drawer. Before taking that last bit of clothing that separated you, he leaned down and kissed you sweetly, showing you how much you meant to him, how what was happening between you was so much more than just sex and physical attraction. He wanted you, but not just in his bed or under his naked body, he wanted you everyday, safely wrapped up in his arms; yes, he wanted you to be his, but he also wanted to be yours and only yours.

Once he got rid of his boxers and rolled the condom down his hard member, he rested his weight on one elbow, next to your head, and forced you to look him in the eyes by placing his free hand on your chin.

“Hey, if you want me to stop, just tell me, okay? Doesn’t matter what I’m doing, you stop me if you don’t want this anymore, mh?”

“Okay,” you nodded and he sent you a genuine smile.

The head of his cock began teasing your wet entrance, rubbing you up and down as he played with your swollen clit. Grunts and moans filled the room once again, the feeling was amazing but it wasn’t enough.

“Ra-“ you started to whine out his name but was cut off by your gasp, caused by the sudden intrusion of his cock, stretching you out as he tried to slip the head in.

You clamped down on him and threw one hand around his bicep, sinking your nails in the tight skin, while the other was on his back and gripped his muscles; you whimpered at the big stretch.

Rafe gently rubbed your clit to help you focus on the pleasure rather than the pain and it seemed to work as he managed to push himself more inside of you. When he stopped, halfway through, he pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath as you did the same.

“Shit - you’re so tight.”

You didn’t know why but your stomach did flips at his voice, for some reason you found everything he said so arousing in that moment.

“Kiss me, please,” you whispered and he obliged immediately, steadying his hips for he waited for the green light.

The softness of his lips brought you comfort and pleasure started to curse through your veins; you slightly pulled away, “you can move now.”

His hips began moving at a slow and gentle pace, making you comfortable, until a loud moan escaped your lips and he set a faster pace than before as your nails scratched down his back with one hand and his chest with the other. The latter moved to his head and brought him down to make him kiss you again. Your lips moved in sync while he kept hitting places inside you that you didn’t even know existed and you all but screamed in pleasure in his mouth. He tilted his head back for a moment, breathing harder and groaning; when he looked down at you again, he swore to himself no one was ever going to look at you the way he was in that moment. You were his and he intended to keep it that way. Your chest raised as you arched your back from the pleasure and he couldn’t help himself from dipping his head down and wrap his lips around your nipple. The sound of skin slapping was muffled by the loud music that came from downstairs and his ears were filled with your voice.

When he felt you clamp down on him, hard, he brought his lips to your ear, “you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” He whispered, “mh? Fuck - you’re squeezing me so tight. Just like that.”

He was sure you were leaving red marks down his back and he loved that; he was craving it.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart,” he rasped before rubbing your clit faster, until you finally unraveled beneath him, moaning his name like a chant as he wasn’t even thinking about his own release, just about yours. However, the sight of your body shaking under him triggered his orgasm as well and he moaned your name with his head in the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair while he lazily kept moving his hips to prolong both his and your releases, until he collapsed on top of you and you tried to regain your breaths.

He kissed your throat and raised his head to feel your lips against his again; he was getting drunk on the taste of your body and he didn’t want to be sober ever again. His hands caressed your sensitive skin, eliciting goosebumps all over you at his touch.

His nose brushed against yours as he mumbled on your mouth, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You smiled up at him, “I’m okay, Rafe.”

“Was that how you imagined it would be?”

“No,” you chuckled at his expression, “it was much better.”

He kissed your forehead, “I’m gonna clean you up now, yeah?”

Once he had made sure you were both clean, he gave you a pair of his boxers and a shirt while he only wore those grey sweatpants that always made you look away with your whole face on fire. He lied on the bed with his back on the mattress and your head on his chest as you stroked his naked stomach and he rubbed your back up and down from underneath the shirt.

“Rafe?” You asked after sitting in silence for a while.

“Yeah?”

You sat up slightly to face him while your body laid on the side.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship,” you whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”

His hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his favorite excuse to hold your face in his hand, “I don’t want to lose you either, sweetheart, but…” he sighed loudly, “I can’t be your friend anymore.”

Your throat tightened and your heart broke at his words, your worst fear of sleeping with him was already becoming your living nightmare. He noticed the tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to avoid eye contact and he cursed himself for phrasing it so badly.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I - I want more. I can’t be just your friend and if you’ll have me, I’ll show you that I’m serious about this.”

Your mind was going through a thousand different and contrasting thoughts, but it took one look at his beautiful blue eyes, full of adoration, for you to crumble. But before you could speak, he noticed the hesitation written all over your features and stopped you.

“Listen, I’ve never done this,” he continued, “I don’t know how to love someone or how to be the perfect boyfriend, but I do know that I care about you, more than I ever cared about anyone else in my life. I can’t stand the thought of you being in someone else’s arms because I was too much of an idiot to let you go…What I’m trying to say is that I think I’m falling in love with you and I don’t want to stop because even if it’s the scariest feeling in the world, I’ve never felt better in my whole life.”

You looked down at him with a big grin on your face, loving this side of him that he only ever showed to you, and climbed on his lap. You bent your head to kiss his lips and he followed you immediately, placing his hands on your waist and enjoying the fact that he wanted to get used to that.

“I think I’m falling for you, too, Rafe.”

You smiled at each other before he flipped the two of you over, making you squeal and giggle. He began leaving pecks all over your face and you couldn’t believe that that was your Rafe. Your foreheads touched as you looked at each other.

“You’re mine now, huh?” He asked, cockily but you could hear the insecurity laced in his tone.

“I’m yours.”

“Good,” he grinned, “‘cause I’m yours, too.”

After another kiss, you got back to your previous position, your head nuzzled in his neck as he hugged you closer to your chest. Silence filled the room, comfortable and familiar.

“You know Nate and Camille are fucking, right?” He suddenly asked and you chuckled loudly at his choice of words.

“They really do think we’re dumb,” you commented.

You spent the rest of the night like that, talking about everything and nothing, gossiping about your friends and even about people you didn’t know; just like you had always done, two friends laughing together, except this time you knew you were his and he knew he was yours, and neither of you would’ve changed anything about that.

taglist:

(italic means i couldn’t tag you)

@gemofthenight @poguesworld @vigilanteshitposting @m-indkiller @dearreader03 @4starg1rl @buckysdogtagss @yoonabeo @iruzias @babypoguelife @c0untryclub @poppet05 @earth2starkey @rosie-cameron @tee-swizzle @valel07 @lilmaybank @palmwinemami @marzipaanz @buckyandlokirunmylife

este hombre me hace DÉBIL

gangrry being in a bad mood bc of work and yn cheers him up

okay let's write this cause i missed my gangrry babies 🙏🏻 hope you don't mind that this took an unexpected turn.

! | blowjob, harry's dirty mouth.

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | GANGRRY UNIVERSE

It's ten at night when Y/N listens from the sofa as Harry throws his keys on the kitchen counter, announcing his arrival.

He sighs and appears in her vision, his suit is crumpled, his hair dishevelled from the number of times he's run his hands through it. The smile she gives him comforts him a little, and he lies down beside her, leaving a kiss on her lips first.

"Bad day?" She asks, pausing the Narcos series so she can give her husband her full attention.

"Don't mention it." Harry replies, closing his eyes when she strokes her nails across his scalp. "Louis forgot to check the perimeter of the drop point and the fucking cops almost found us."

Y/N swallows dryly at the thought that they almost catch the gang. "Well, but it all worked out and now you're home with me, mhm?"

The long-haired opens his eyes to look at her and smiles tiredly, you can see the dark circles under his eyes and the stress on his shoulders. She had to do something, he always comforted her when she came home from the restaurant stressed and it was only fair to give back what she got.

Y/N straddles him, making him smile. "Wha' are you doing, angel?"

"Can't I give love to my husband?" She murmurs, leaving kisses on his jaw and moving down to his neck as she undoes the buttons of the black dress shirt.

"M'love, you can do whatever the fuck y'want w'me."

Harry feels all the anger and stress melt away from his body thanks to the kisses and caresses of his love, he loves her so much. Although he doesn't say it very often, he shows it in everything he does, but sometimes he can't help the three words that escape from his mouth.

"I love you." He whispers and kisses her slowly, savouring the sweet taste of her mouth on his. "Gonna make me feel good?"

Y/N nods quickly, as her hands unbuckle his belt. "Yes, you always make me feel good and it's only fair that I do too."

Harry frowns and puts his hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes. "Hey, I make you feel good because I want to and because I like to. You don't have to if you don't want to, we can keep watching this shit series you're watching."

His tone is serious but sweet, and it makes her heart beat even harder for him. How could someone so ruthless and who had done so many bad things be so sweet and perfect with her?

"Of course I want to, H. I love you." She replies, kissing the cross tattoo on his hand, and he nods, lifting his pelvis to remove his trousers.

"Then I'm all yours."

Harry watches as Y/N slides over him until she's kneeling on the floor in front of his hardening crotch. She rests her cheek on the tiger tattoo, and with her index finger outlines the shape of his member, making him shudder.

She could be the sweetest and most tender person in the world, but when she wanted to, she could make him stutter.

"You got hard so fast... for me?" She asks, the sweet, slightly innocent tone in her voice only turning him on more.

"Of course, baby. Everything I do, everything I am, is for you." He whispers, resting his head on the back of the couch and letting her remove his boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down.

His cock is standing proudly against his belly, and Y/N lifts her head from his thigh so she can pay attention to it. She wraps her hand around him slowly and uses the precum as a lubricant to start moving her hand up and down.

"Shit, just like that." Harry resists the urge to lift his hips and lets her take her time.

She looks up at him from below, and sticks her tongue out from between her lips to lick the head slowly, staining her mouth white and making the gang leader feel like he could cum at any moment even though they just started.

"Mhm, so good." Y/N murmurs, and continues to lick him.

Harry can feel all the pent up stress leave with each lick, and when she takes him completely in her mouth he feels like a goner. He grunts as she moans around him, the vibrations reach everywhere on his body, and he slides a hand down to put it in her hair.

He doesn't speed up his movements, he just puts his hand there in a comforting way. The blowjob is messy, strands of drool escape from Y/N's mouth onto his balls and he loves every moment of it.

"Fucking Christ, keep it that way, angel." He moans, feeling her sucking him. "Such a pretty little mouth, who would've thought someone so sweet could suck a cock so damn well?"

She looks up at him, ignoring how her body demands attention and continues sucking until she pulls him out of her mouth and her hand takes his place.

"You're gonna cum in my mouth, Mr. Styles?"

Fuck.

Harry nods fast, and settles back on the couch for more control. "I will, shit– and then we'll go for a bath where I'll fuck you like you deserve."

Y/N feels herself getting more aroused at his words, and she puts her mouth back on his cock, sucking the head and then brushing her tongue over the vein that ran the length of his cavity.

She was the only one who could see Harry Styles, one of Europe's biggest criminals, moaning desperately for her, with his dress shirt unbuttoned revealing his tattoos glistening in the dim light of the TV.

Suddenly, he becomes more flustered, and clenches his fist in her hair. "I'm gonna cum, angel, fuck– m'gonna cum so fucking hard."

She speeds up her movements and slides one hand down to fondle his balls, which makes him grunt and lunge against her mouth, she holds back gagging and lets him do whatever he wants with her, until he cums. Y/N watches as his eyes close tightly and his mouth opens in an "O" and knows there's no prettier, more lustful sight than this.

"Fucking shit– you are so, so good." He murmurs breathlessly, watching between his half-closed eyelids as she pulls him out of her mouth, swallowing all of his cum and then putting his member back into her underwear.

They both curl up on the couch and Harry leaves kisses all over her face, silently thanking her for the treat. "Shall we go for a bath?"

She nods, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. "I want a tea first."

"Anything for m'wife."

🥺 cute cute cute

it's missing sf!babies hours 🥺🖤

😢😢😢 wrote this for you, this is them today! <3

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | SINCE FOREVER UNIVERSE

"You posted on Instagram and you didn't say anything to me?!" Y/N shows up at their bedroom door, where Harry is lying on his stomach.

He smiles and continues scrolling through his phone, reading the comments. His fiancée climbs on his back, and rests her head on his shoulder.

"So we're going to Spain and Argentina this year?" She asks, placing kisses on his neck which makes him shiver.

"Yup." He answers, looking over his shoulder to get a view of her.

"What about the wedding?"

Right, the wedding.

"We'll take a little break and do it, m'soul. I promise." He says, and presses his lips together. "Kissy?"

Y/N rolls his eyes, but still reaches out to give him a beak. "You better, I want to end 2022 married to the boy in baggy pants who visited my tree house."

Harry growls, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "I promise you we'll end up married, and we'll have eight babies and a cat."

"I thought you were a dog person?" She asks, frowning.

"Yeah, but you're a cat person, and what you want, you get."

"You know, instead of having eight children, we could have two pets and less than four babies, it would be easier." She laughs, stroking his curls which (luckily for her) are growing back.

"Nope, eight babies seems fair to me."

i live for gravity!h

he’s so cute and hot at the same time we love a versatile king ❤️‍🔥🙄

gravity

(y/n) hated physics while harry loved it, but both of them have a couple of secrets.

—————

College sucks.

(Y/N) knew that from the second she had to pay for books that should have been provided given the extravagant amount she paid in tuition. Her viewpoint was only reaffirmed when she attended lectures for mandatory courses that had nothing to do with her major, with professors who didn't care whether or not she was comprehending the material. All she was really doing here was getting a fancy piece of paper with a seal on it in hopes of being taken seriously when looking for a job.

It only sucked worse when she felt like she was failing, and barely saw the roommate that had promised to keep her sane through the entire experience.

That was how (Y/N) found herself drunk and alone on a Friday night.

To be fair, she was having a lot more fun than she would have thought considering she was not a talented bartender and the vodka cranberry she messily mixed in her kitchen tasted of sweetened rubbing alcohol at first sip.

Loud music was blaring through the apartment (or at least as loud as she knew she could get away with, considering her neighbors weren't too keen on the college experience), with every door left wide open throughout the space. The apartment felt bigger through her hooded vision, her clumsy choreography feeling like a grandiose production with the make-believe partner she conjured out of the Kacey Musgraves lyrics that floated throughout every room.

It was only when she remembered she was alone that she wished so badly there was someone with her. Someone to hold her like Kacey described, to kiss and touch over her body in loving runs. That was when the fog in her mind took on a rosied tint, a yearning feeling aching to trace out the form of another.

She blamed it on the alcohol, and the fact she had been single for far too long. Since she was alone—something she had started the night grateful for—she became a little too aware of the lusted shift her thoughts were taking and how much she wished she had someone else there to relieve the ache that was sparking between her thighs. (This happened often when she drank. She was a loving and affectionate drunk, making the absence of another glaringly obvious to her).

(Y/N) didn't have even half the mind to be embarrassed as she dug around for her laptop in her room, too preoccupied by the tipsy lens she was seeing the world through, and the longing that had settled in her stomach. After finding her treasure, she settled herself on the wrinkled mess that was her bedding, and opened a familiar browser. It was a little too instinctive as she typed in the familiar website, but she couldn't find it in her to care when the lazy thoughts floating through her mind were urging her to find any kind of release.

That was how she found herself on a cam-site.

Truly, it had been a slip of the finger. All she had tried to do was click on the minuscule 'x' tacked in the corner of a shady pop-up ad on a much more legit site, but her lagging response time made it that much harder to react before she was being directed to a completely different site.

This one lacked the typically dark grey and black shading that other explicit sites utilized. This one used a green based layout, leaving the attention to be placed on the rows and rows of thumbnails dotting her screen. Across the main page, the site boasted a channel of over fifty-thousand different performers, making it easy to find something 'to your liking'. The small boxes that filled out the screen displayed different people in various states of undress (or in outfits (Y/N) wasn't aware were made in real life), some with their faces cut out of frame and others feeling no need to hide their identity. They were all stilled into a single scene from their 'stream', as it was labeled under the tile, some performing acts that she hadn't known were physically possible. Once she realized what it was that she had been loaded onto, she pulled back with a gasp.

She had never been on a cam-site before; the idea of paying a stranger to get off on camera while she lurked on the other side with complete anonymity felt a bit too sleazy to make her comfortable or turned on. Fully intending to backpedal onto the familiar site she had accidentally left, (Y/N) barely swept her lagging eyes over the expanse of the site, her fingertips lazily tracing over the touchpad to take her back.

Until she saw one tile of a person just sitting there.

It was a short view of a man's chest, the frame cutting off at his neck to give the full of the attention to his seated body with his torso the main focus. He was sat in something that emulated the office chair that she had pushed into her desk in her room, nothing especially pornographic about the set up; even the dimmed lights in the background denoted nothing other than a quiet night in. He wasn't undressed as far as she could tell from the pixelated view she was given into his video. A gauzy button-up was stretched across the broad of his shoulders, the fabric thin and left unbuttoned enough to show a pair of birds tattooed below his collarbones and something that could either be a butterfly or an octopus on his tummy given the quality of the thumbnail. He even had his pants on.

More than anything, the lack of lewd acts and scandalous dressing made her curious. Maybe it wasn't required that you do anything explicitly sexual during your stream.

Her decision tasted like cranberries saturated in vodka as she rerouted her finger on the touchpad and instead tapped on the username that was spelled out under the tile. It only took a second before his profile popped up. The page shared the same layout as the main site; a plain sage green base backing the much more customized personal page that displayed his information.

His screen name—treatpeoplewkisses—was highlighted in a golden yellow across the top. The details of his profile generated underneath. Most of the categories were left vague; only a country filling in his location, and a single letter (H) giving him a name. What looked to be a screenshot or a still from one of his videos acted as his profile picture, the setting similar to what she saw as he was sat in his dimly lit base with a barely buttoned top on with the black of his tattoos shining through the fabric. A green dot beside his user confirmed that he was online. A stream of posts made up the rest of his page, the most recent status making a claim that he was LIVE NOW! with a bright pink link that had been shared a little over ten minutes ago.

(Y/N) felt a pit in her tummy as she pressed the link. Something like guilt blinked through the vodka-induced haze, feeling odd to be viewing someone so intimately while she didn't have to share a thing. But, she reasoned with herself, if that wasn't something he was comfortable with, he wouldn't be on this site. Besides, as far as she could tell, he wasn't doing anything like his counterparts on the site, so she might not be seeing anything explicit anyway.

Nevertheless, she didn't stop as the screen loaded, directing her to the stream she had only gotten a glimpse of on the start page. Her laptop filled out to a new setup with the main video displayed in the center with the boy she had seen still sitting in his comfortably lit room and his ethereally thin top. Beside the video was a chat stream, where all comments were shown in response to anything he said or did. A thermometer-like bar was plastered on the other side, displaying how much money he had already made that night with a goal tacked to the top of the bar. In the ten minutes since he had gone live, he had already made a hundred dollars with the promise of more coming in if the range of comments had anything to do with it.

His—H's—throat bobbed around words she couldn't hear with gentle expansions of his chest under his shirt as he breathed, nothing at all like the wild extremes that had been sandwiched around him on the main page. She worked on something like autopilot as she turned up the volume on her laptop, wanting to know what was getting the comments flooding in faster than she could catch.

Maybe it was the alcohol-induced lag going on in her head, but all (Y/N) could register for a moment was how deep and inviting his tone was as it washed over her. He had drawn her in in a matter of seconds.

He seemed to be responding to comments, though the tone he used made it feel like he was talking to only her; answering questions she had forgotten she asked and responding to compliments she wordlessly gave. He was good at what he was doing. Even without his face in the shot, it felt like he was speaking only to her, as if there wasn't a hoard of comments streaming through at every pause

"'M happy you're having a good night, darling. Thank you for letting me be a part of it."

He spoke low and slow enough for her to register through the haze in her mind, the words dripping over her like honey. What kind of dreamboat was this? And how did he exist on a site like this?

No matter whatever direction this stream took, she was sure actors of any kind wished they could procure a relationship like this with viewers; something personal enough to keep them coming back for more no matter the content.

(Y/N) leaned in, listening intently as H let out a breathy laugh that filtered through her speakers, the sound deep and rich like the rest of him. She could only imagine the kind of smile that stretched across his lips in conjunction with the sound. She wished she knew what the color of his lips were.

"Is that what the mood for tonight is? Well, I won't keep y'waiting, I know it's been a long week, love."

Her eyes only widened as he joined in on the tradition of the site he was registered on, making a slow show of unbuttoning the remaining bindings on his top and revealing the full of his chest to the camera. All the while, he entertained comments and kept her listening while her eyes were fixed to the fluid and comfortable motions he made over his body.

It was that easy to get her hooked.

She couldn't—and didn't want to—find any will to exit from the stream, even when he progressed to taking the stripping up another level by taking off his pants. She was transfixed on him and his ability to make the entire experience much too personal considering the nature of the transaction. It was effortless how he drew her in, doing nothing other than using the body of his voice and indulging in his own pleasure.

And, god, he was just hot.

His voice was entirely too warm to be that of a stranger she had never met and she'd never have the opportunity to hear in person. He touched over his body with the assurance that no matter what he did, it wasn't only for him, that he knew exactly how much his viewer liked it and he would make sure he wasn't the only one feeling good in the experience. The cherry on top was the fact that in that first stream, as if she wasn't already a sucker for him, he called himself daddy. He moaned around the honorific, teasing and beckoning her in to join him in his scene and to help him work his cock and take all he had to give her.

She knew she would be coming back when he ended the stream, chest a flushed red and his hand wrapped in a towel as he cleaned himself up, with a declaration of affection: "I adore you." He didn't log off until he requested for his viewers to wait for him, as if she had any plans otherwise at that point.

He was intoxicating in every sense of the word. More even than the vodka cranberry she had drank through that first night she found him.

That had been only the first time she had indulged in his stream.

(Y/N) only relented to making an account on the site when she had visited his page for the third time (second time sober). She felt a bit guilty to be viewing his content for free when it was clear this was an opportunity for him to make money through the tips that poured through and filled the meter to the side of the video. But, she found her own way to support him once she was comfortable: she commented in the chat stream. She was much more tame than others, but she did enough to let him know that he was appreciated by her. That she liked him.

It was lame to say, especially out loud, but H had become the consistent man in her life and she liked that she was granted with the privilege of being a part of the fantasy of his stream. He made it that much easier, even in the short amount of time since she had stumbled onto his page, to get through classes with something to look forward to when she was burnt out. He made getting off a lot more fun, if she was being honest, even if he was nothing more than a fantasy that played out on her laptop screen.

She was never going to meet him anyway, so she was free to pine over him, she decided. No harm done.

—————

(Y/N) loved her roommate with her whole heart.

Naomi had been her best friend since their freshmen year and was the one person she knew she could live with without jeopardizing their friendship in the process. She had even enrolled in a physics course—something outside of her required credits—just because Ny needed to take it and was scared of going alone. (Y/N) loved her like a sister.

But, god, she fucking hated her sometimes.

After (Y/N) had gone through all the trouble to get signed up for the physics course she didn't need, and even gone through syllabus week and prepared herself to work with something that was entirely out of her wheelhouse, Ny dropped the class. The worst part was that she hadn't even bothered to let (Y/N) in on the secret until the deadline had passed. Her apology was given in the form of a pair of guilty puppy dog eyes staring at her as Ny pleaded with her to not be angry and that she would do all their laundry for a month to make it up to her. ((Y/N) managed to up the deal to two months before she accepted).

That was how (Y/N) found herself walking alone to the science building, trekking the dreaded route to Prof. Stanfill's room. It wouldn't have been so bad if she felt any semblance of comfort in the course and the material, but (Y/N) hated her physics class almost as much as she hated Ny the day she confessed she dropped the class.

She had always known the sciences weren't her strongest suit, but this was on another level. No matter how many times she tried to understand the direction the lesson was taking, notes dutifully pulled up on her laptop, nothing seemed to help the confusion that settled over her as soon as Stanfill started his lecture.

Not only did the material go entirely over her head, but she was almost halfway sure her professor was actually just a walking robot. From the moment she sat down—attendance was a huge part of her grade unfortunately, otherwise she would have skipped almost every session—, she was assaulted with his monotone voice and the too-small projector he had displaying dated notes she was sure he hadn't updated since the nineties. The worst part was that she didn't even need to be there; this wasn't advancing her any closer to her degree, but it was too late.

Now, she was stuck with Professor Stanfill and a file on her laptop full of useless notes.

(Y/N) did her best to make the most of it, finding anything to comfort her through the class and make it somewhat easier to process. Whenever she could, she made the trip to get some sweetened coffee to bring with her. She never made a huge effort to look put together for the class either, opting for sweaters that accommodated the weather outside and she could get away with napping in when she made it home. She had also claimed an aisle seat in one of the further rows in the back, closest to the door. As soon as class was dismissed, she took full advantage of the prime spot to bolt out of there as quickly as possible.

That's how her Monday had started as she walked into the lecture hall, a comfy sweater wrapped around her form and a too-hot coffee warming her palm. She dropped her bag beside her preferred chair, pulling her laptop out onto the bench style table top that lined the amphitheater of seats. The space beside her was occupied by the boy with the kind smile that had taken the chair after Ny dropped the course.

He was another of the small things that made getting through the session just a bit easier, despite the way (Y/N) hadn't ever had a real conversation with him in the last month they'd been seatmates. Even with the lack of conversation, he had been nice enough to offer her a pen the first day (Y/N) had walked in alone as a flustered mess after Ny had confessed her secret. He regularly gave her soft smiles and whispered short thank you's whenever she passed down worksheets or let him scoot behind her when he was on his way out. He was a good seatmate to have; kind, quiet, and consistent.

He—Harry? Or his name could be Edward, she's honestly not sure and she feels too bad to ask considering she felt like she should know by now—was the coziest person she'd seen around campus, too. Every session he showed up in some variation of a chunky cardigan or sweater (today's knit was a large orange mess of thick yarn, the color deep enough to resemble a pumpkin's rind), wide-legged pants, and a pair of scuffed Vans that looked well loved. Varnish was always painted over his nails, the polish sticking around for two weeks before he had something new glimmering at his fingertips (this week's was a warm brown color with glittery gold accents). Before every lecture, he pulled his glasses from his bag to perch the wide frames on the bridge of his nose.

What (Y/N) had noticed first about him was just how smart Harry was. It was clear in the way he took his dutiful, color-coordinated notes, and the way he breezed through exams with the near perfect scores on lab write-ups. His notes were handwritten in a pristine notebook that, if (Y/N) hadn't known better, she would have assumed it had never been used. Compared to (Y/N)'s typed version, his were levels above even with the somewhat messy nature of his writing. She wouldn't be surprised if he was on the dean's list every semester with the university throwing money at him in hopes of keeping his attendance lest he choose somewhere more Ivy League. She looked forward to the speech he would give at graduation as top of their class.

If she couldn't have Ny with her, she was happy to have someone like Harry seated with her.

(Y/N)'s attention shifted when Professor Stanfill dimmed the lights and projected his notes across the canvas hung at the front of the room. No introduction was offered as he dove into this lecture's subject. She was always left a bit scrambled to catch up with him, though she knew beside her Harry had his hands busy already finding value in whatever Stanfill was saying.

—————

"Bye Ny! Text me if you need anything!"

Naomi tossed her promises and goodbyes over her shoulder before leaving in a flash of shaggy blonde hair to meet with a couple of friends for a study group. (Y/N) basked in the silence that settled over the apartment for a moment, her muscles decompressing.

After her physics class, she had immediately gone home and tried her best to get through some homework and even attempted to sort through her physics notes in hopes of rearranging them to make any sense. With all the added work, she felt like she hadn't left campus in over ten hours despite the comfort of her own apartment around her. The only thing that had drawn her from the struggle that was her school bag, was Ny dragging her out to say goodbye before she left. Now, with the clarity of mind she found away from her work, she was able to finally deflate.

She didn't want to go back to her work, not having the strength to reanalyze a concept she had little to no grasp on anyway. So, she stuffed all of her things back into her bag and tucked it away underneath her desk with no intention of looking at it again until Monday morning. (Y/N) snuggled herself in her bed, laptop warming her thighs as she closed out of the research tabs she had pulled up in an effort to better understand her physics material. All that was left open was a couple different tabs of Etsy shops and this pair of shoes she had been yearning over for months.

Now, (Y/N) hadn't even intended to key in the too familiar URL—she wasn't even in that kind of mood if she was being honest. She had planned on napping, but if H just so happened to be streaming, she could fit that in before tucking under the covers she decided. Still, she found herself loaded onto the green webpage with no hesitation. She was quick to get signed in, cringing at the fact her details auto-filled as she tapped the blue button to be directed onto the start page littered with the rows of other users she had no interest in. She breezed past the tiles, feeling uncomfortable to be viewing them although she was obviously on this site for a reason. Clicking the search function in the top corner, (Y/N) typed in the familiar username that came up as a suggestion after the first few keystrokes.

His page filled her screen, the usual vague details listed under his username greeting her. She trailed her eyes over the screen, finding that he'd made a new status only minutes ago detailing that he would be going live five minutes from when the post was made. Flicking her eyes to the top of her screen, finding it had been almost four minutes since, (Y/N) didn't hesitate before clicking on the link.

The usual page loaded, his standby screen filling the space where his stream would pop up. The screen showed off his username and all the links to his various premium accounts before he turned his camera on. (Y/N) always felt a tiny bit guilty when she saw the encouragements to tip during his show or otherwise check out one of his paid services. She wasn't able to do either—she was in college, what can she say?—but she tried her best to make up for it by interacting as much as she was comfortable with in the chat, even when the thread was being flooded far too quickly.

She barely had a second to marinate in the self-appointed guilt before the screen flickered and blinked his standby screen away. The familiar view of H with his head cut from frame and the solid build of his body being the main focus took her attention. She felt like Pavlov's dog, at this point, just the first sight of him eliciting a conditioned reaction that let her know the pleasurable direction her night was taking.

"Hello," he quipped, throat bobbing around the word with a smile in his tone, "How are you tonight?"

He always started the show the same, asking about his viewers' days while knowing good and well what people were there to see. She thought it was sweet, whether it was a calculated move to make the stream feel more personal or an instinctual choice. Nonetheless, this was one of her favorite parts of his streams, she decided. She thought it was nice of him to ask something like that when he could just jump into the things that actually make him money.

(Y/N)'s eyes struggled to follow the amount of comments that came pouring in, many giving bland answers before urging him to pull his clothes off and calling him his preferred title of daddy. His hands on his thighs flexed, the veins and tendons in the appendages making themselves known as he assumedly read through some of the more intense comments that breezed over his pleasantries all together. She hesitated before typing out her own response, knowing it was rather dull in comparison to what was being shot at him.

sunflowerssweetheart: my day was good, but im even better now!! hbu??

She cringed as she pressed send. If anything, he wouldn't respond if it didn't catch his eye or it could get swept away if he replied to anyone else's comment first. But, (Y/N) hoped it might stand out that she was repeating his question to him, something she hadn't seen in the chat beforehand.

A breathy laugh sounded through the speakers, his chest expanding underneath the sheer, black fabric of his top that did nothing to conceal the tanned skin underneath. "M'day was good, too, sweetheart, thank you for asking. 'M happy you're here, too."

He went on to reply to a few other comments, the depth of his voice turning into a warm current that washed over her with every syllable, but (Y/N) felt a little too happy with herself that her comment had been the one he responded to first. She melted into her bedding the more he talked, hoping one of the daddy comments would catch his eye and set the tone for the rest of the stream.

There was a moment's pause as he lent back into his chair, leaving the full of his chest unobstructed. The leafy tattoos that adorned his hips were just barely peeking under his shirt, but (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off them.

"I wanted to take it slow tonight, is that alright? Been a long day, and daddy's stressed out. Can I take m'time with you, baby?"

(Y/N) could have sworn she felt her pupils dilate at his words, the honorific stuttering her heart before fluttering through her system to settle between her legs. He was a dream—a dirty dream, sure, but still one she didn't want to wake from.

"That's alright? Want to see daddy take his time? Make a mess just for you?"

She watched on as his hands reached for the buttons on his shirt, a glimmering gold flicking off of his nails as he worked through the buttons. Before she could get a better view of whatever it was he had painted over his nails this stream, his shirt was buttoned wide open with his hands dragging over the expanse of his chest. A hummed moan vibrated from his throat, the sound wrapping around (Y/N) with a clench to her thighs.

God, she was happy Ny was out.

—————

"I still can't believe you dropped the class without telling me, as if I wasn't going to figure it out considering we live together and I was going to notice when you didn't come to class with me."

(Y/N)'s tone held amusement as she checked her student portal, double checking that she hadn't missed an assignment from Stanfill—her weekend was unusually empty of physics stress aside from the self-assigned read-through of her notes.

"I felt bad!" Ny whined, dropping her attention from the crew of housewives they were watching on T.V., "I had begged you for weeks to pick up physics then realized I didn't even need it because I read the requirements wrong, and I was embarrassed! You already know I'm sorry!"

"I know you are," (Y/N) smiled at her from a slumped position on their couch, "I already forgave you weeks ago, but now I'm doing this alone."

"You're not completely alone," Ny argued, dropping her small bagel pizza onto her paper plate, "I know you've made friends."

"Barely," she countered, disregarding her phone in favor of reaching for the throw blanket at her side, "It's hard making friends while trying to keep the entire subject straight in my head."

"What about that guy you said moved next to you after I dropped?"

"He never talks to me, you know that. It's like he's scared of me. I've probably heard him talk a handful of times, including when I had to ask him for a pen so it wasn't even voluntary."

Ny rolled her lips between her teeth, flicking her eyes across the room in thought. "You said he's really smart right?" she perked up further at (Y/N)'s affirming nod, "Just ask him about that stuff then and see if he'll help you. It'll get him to talk more, if anything."

(Y/N) heaved a sigh, her shoulders rising only to fall back into the downy blanket around her, "Ny, this would have been so much easier if you had just stuck with me. We'd be falling together at least."

"You're not going to fail, (Y/N)," she argued, a softened undercurrent to her words.

"Have you seen my grade?"

"We're not even two months in; there hasn't been any exams for you to bomb yet, how bad could it be?"

(Y/N) knew Naomi was trying to be encouraging in her own way, combating (Y/N)'s self-deprecating remarks but it wasn't super helpful to hear about a test she'd hadn't bombed yet. She looked to her friend with a raised brow, waiting for her to realize what exactly it was that she said.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, shoulders deflating, "Is there anything I can do to help? I can read over your notes and help you reformat them, if that helps?" She let out a small sigh, traces of her earlier amusement draining from her blue eyes, "I really am sorry, (Y/N), I was too embarrassed to tell you but I should have before you got stuck with this."

"I know," (Y/N) smiled, "And it's really okay, you know I'm just being dramatic. But I think I'm all caught up in my notes and everything—I still don't understand it, but there's no more work to be done anyway. Stanfill didn't even assign any reading for this weekend, so I think I'm finally not going to be behind on Monday."

"You're lucky," Ny mumbled around her pizza bagel, "My profs only do that when they have something worse planned for the weekend."

"I know, I was surprised. But, I mean, I'll take it." (Y/N) shifted her attention to the television in front of her, dropping back into the 'reality' of the show.

The more she thought about it, maybe Ny was right. It might not be a bad idea to ask Harry for help, especially if it would mean she had someone to talk to in that class.

—————

(Y/N)'s weekend of grace came to an abrupt end as she walked into Prof. Stanfill's lecture hall. Despite the fact she'd already had a pair of classes earlier in the day, nothing made her feel quite like it was Monday until she was forced to wrap her mind around concepts she couldn't even spell. She was running a few minutes late as she trudged to her seat, not having had enough time to grab something sweet to drink but still donning a green cardigan to keep her warm and comfortable.

It wasn't until she dropped her bag by her seat that she noticed her seatmate wasn't there like usual. Despite the small amount she saw of him, Harry was a rather predictable person—at least his schedule was, anyway. He was always there before her, set up with his highlighters and pens in neat rows and his notebook flipped to the exact right page. This wasn't like him at all to be missing just seven minutes before Stanfill was meant to start class. She hoped he was okay.

Eventually, just as (Y/N) begrudgingly had opened up her never ending document of notes, her seatmate stumbled through the heavy doors with a flustered expression marring his features.

He ran a heavy hand through the swirl of curls on his head, (Y/N) able to hear the audible sigh he heaved as he climbed the stairs to their row. He wore a pair of rust colored corduroy flares with a large black jumper bundled over his torso, his shoulder bag falling down his arm to land in the crook of his elbow. He clumsily sat down in his spot beside her, a mess of handwritten notes and colored highlighters and pens spilling out from the unfastened flap of his bag. Despite the mess, he breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down, the tension in his muscles dropping as he noticed Stanfill hadn't started class.

As his mess of utensils spilled across the tabletop, (Y/N) was quick to save a few of the pens and markers before they could tumble over the ledge. She passed them to him, settling them in a neat row beside the pile he was curating of his mismatched papers.

"Thank you," he responded quietly, his hands shaky as he straightened his jumble of notes.

She had never seen him so out of sorts like this. This wasn't the same guy she had pictured reading off a well-prepared speech at graduation. She was sure he wasn't used to feeling like this either if the flush disappearing down his neck and the worry curling his brow had anything to say.

"You okay?" she asked, just as quietly as he had spoken. She hoped she read him right; she'd feel awful if he took her question the wrong way like she thought something was wrong with him. The downfall of never speaking with your seatmate, she figured—she had no idea how he worked.

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered, finally setting his things out the rightful order he liked them in, "Jus' had a late start this morning." The blush that warmed his neck traveled upwards and painted over his cheeks. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he reached into his bag to pull out his glasses case, slipping the large frames onto his pink nose.

Just as (Y/N) was about to respond, Professor Stanfill started up his ancient projector and began babbling on with no introduction.

Beside her, Harry sifted through his notes with a purpose, opening to the preferred page before detailing more notes on the already filled page. Usually, she wouldn't be so surprised that all of the information—being so monotonously presented—were things she didn't quite understand, but today was a whole other story.

Stanfill was going on about a completely new topic than the one they left on last Friday.

She quickly scrolled through her notes while paying as much attention as she could to what he was saying. She couldn't find any remnant of today's topic (oscillations, apparently) in any of her scattered notes. She could see from the corner of her eye that her classmate was only adding tidbits to his already completed notes, nodding his head along to certain points Professor Stanfill brought up.

She flicked her gaze nervously between her lecturer and Harry. She didn't want to interrupt the boy next to her, but she really needed to have at least some semblance of what was going on. She just hoped this was worth the embarrassment.

"Excuse me?" she whispered, leaning over the bench table closer to his space.

His head popped up from his notes, his glasses shifting down his nose as his eyes widened behind the lenses. "Yes?" he answered, his voice just as hush as his gaze never shifted from her's despite the pink dusting his skin.

"What is he talking about? Did I miss something?" She flicked her gaze towards the head of the room.

"Oh," he mumbled, a furrow in his brow appearing, "Did y'not come to the lab over the weekend?"

(Y/N)'s heart dropped at his words, her expression mirroring the fall.

"There was a lab?"

He looked almost guilty as he trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly nodding his head. He looked ready to say more before the sound of Professor Stanfill's voice projecting to the back of the auditorium stopped him.

"Do we have any questions in the back?" he boomed. For the first time his voice wasn't completely monotone.

Harry perked up in his seat, a stray curl landing across his forehead as his posture straightened. "No, sir," he answered quickly, shaking his head and pushing his glasses up his nose.

Stanfill shot them a warning look, flicking his searing gaze between the two of them before continuing on with the lesson (Y/N) was still lost on. Harry resumed his note taking, shooting her an apologetic glance before focusing on the page in front of him.

—————

(Y/N) was lost the remainder of the class, Professor Stanfill occasionally throwing her end of the room glances as he continued lecturing. Beside her, her seatmate continued taking his detailed notes, eventually turning to a new sheet of paper titled with another topic she had no idea they had moved on to. By the time they were dismissed, he had added another three pages to his pile and (Y/N) had typed about three words.

She knew she was going to be fucked anyway, since lab was a fairly large part of their final grade. All she wanted to do was go home, and pretend this hadn't happened. She didn't waste a second before she was rushing to pack up her supplies after getting dismissed by Stanfill.

Just as she slung her bag over her shoulder and started down the steps, a hand gently grabbed her bicep.

"W-wait," the shaky voice she had come to be familiar with sounded behind her. (Y/N) turned to find Harry stumbling after her with his glasses perched on the top of his head and his curls messily falling in his face. He clutched a bundle of looseleaf papers in his other hand as they came to a stop at the base of the steps. "I—uh—I wanted to give y'these, if y'wanted them," he reached his hand out to her with the somewhat crumpled page, "They're m'notes from the lab and today, so y'can catch up if y'wanted."

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, the already raspberry colored skin now flushing to a deep red and swelling against the force. His hands held a slight tremor as he offered her the papers.

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out at his actions. "Are you sure?" she questioned, not wanting to take them unless she knew he was okay with lending the notes she knew he took great pride in.

He jerkily nodded his head, a small smile on his face despite the fact he was still biting down on the full of his bottom lip. "I know y'need them, so please." He urged the papers towards her again, scuffing the toes of his white Vans into the floor.

She gratefully took the volunteered pages from his loose grip, her brows downturning as she gazed at him. "Thank you so much. You really don't have to do this, but it really means a lot."

"You're welcome," he smiled, dimples denting his cheeks as she took his gift. (Y/N) reciprocated his smile and scanned over the organized notes in her hands, finding his name scribbled in the top corner.

"Your name's Harry?" she confirmed, edging towards the door as he followed beside her. Now she didn't have to worry about calling him the wrong name. He nodded his head in response, her question making his cheeks turn a quick pink despite himself. "I'm (Y/N)."

Harry nodded his head beside her, a shy smile on his lips. "Nice t'meet you, (Y/N). Officially."

(Y/N) smiled at his polite introduction, looking over the notes in her hand. They had stopped just outside Stanfill's hall, the large windows showing the quad with the autumnal sun lighting up their forms.

"Thank you again, Harry," she started, sliding the papers into her bag after glancing at the time on her phone: 4:13. She hadn't planned on tuning in tonight, but if (Y/N) didn't want to miss the one sure-fire way she would get any form of stress relief after the class she just endured, she needed to get home soon. "I'll get these back to you on Friday, okay? I have to go, but I'll see you then!"

She tossed him a wave before turning around, walking towards the parking lot. Harry gave her his own dimpled grin.

"Bye, (Y/N)!"

(Y/N) smiled over her shoulder one more time before hurrying to her car.

—————

(Y/N) sighed as she settled into the down of her comforter, the smooth satin of the pajama set she had changed into sliding against her skin (she wanted to feel pretty before she watched the stream, she thought she deserved it). She pulled her laptop onto her thighs, sticking her headphones in her ears before opening up a private tab.

She barely even paid attention as she routed herself to the familiar green layout, signing in and pulling up the page scrawled with treatpeoplewkisses across the top. She hoped that she had gotten his scheduling right; she hoped that Monday was a stream night. When she saw that he hadn't started anything, instead posting the usual announcement detailing that he would be going live in ten minutes in the custom pink font, she felt lucky as she sunk into her comforter.

Just as the time ticked to five o'clock, another status came through, detailed with a link to the stream he was starting now. The only hesitation that came as (Y/N) followed the link came from her stress-wearied muscles, but she had high hopes for that feeling to be melted away by the end of the night.

The chat was already racing through with comments by the time the page loaded. The typical standby screen was situated where H would appear any second with the empty tip meter off to the side. (Y/N) melted into her bedding as she waited, grateful for the fact Ny was still in one of her classes.

Suddenly, his deep voice sounded through her headphones although the standby screen never changed. "Hello," he chirped the familiar greeting despite no view of him. The comments started flooding in, asking him where he was and why they couldn't see him. "How ar—Wait, did I forget to turn m'camera on again?"

A breathy laugh sounded through her ears causing (Y/N) to match the smile she figured was on his face. Although she hadn't been a viewer for very long at all, she had already picked up on his habit of forgetting to turn his camera on every couple of shows. After a bit of rustling coming from his end, the standby screen was replaced with the familiar view of his body from the neck down.

He wore a thin, white t-shirt tonight, his tattoos etched on his arms on display with the few covering his torso only thinly veiled by the fabric.

He waved his hand at the screen, his breathy laugh filling the air. "Hello, again. Sorry about that, 'm a little flustered today. Ran a little late this morning filming a new video, which should be up this weekend on m'premium, and I've been all out of sorts since. I apologize for being late, as well."

He settled his hands on his thighs, quiet for a moment as he assumedly began to read through the comments flooding in. Many were asking what the video from this morning featured, while others were telling him it was okay he was late and that they didn't mind. Majority completely bypassed the conversation, impatient for the real show to begin with pleads sandwiched around his honorific in hopes of spurring him on.

"Thank y'for understanding." His voice was soft as he spoke, (Y/N) could imagine him with a kind smile on his face and his eyes tender. She knew and understood why he never showed his face and respected that choice, but she often found herself wondering what he looked like behind the camera. She'd bet he's beautiful.

"Anyway," he started, painted fingers plucking at the hem of his plain top as he sat back in his chair, "How are y'today? You've already heard about m'day, I'd like to hear about your's."

A stream of comments filtered through the chat, most ignoring the question or breezing through it before sending requests for the show. (Y/N) rested her fingers on the keyboard, trying to think of an answer to his question before he would move on.

sunflowerssweetheart: mine was good thank u!! i finally asked for help in one of my classes today so hopefully i can figure out what's going on !

Like he somehow always did, he found her comment.

"That's good, sweetheart, 'm proud of you," he praised, the smile in his tone audible. She didn't know if it was particular to only her, but (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like he reserved sweetheart just for her, always replying to her comments with the pet name. She hoped it was, especially since the name was in her user. (And, she would feel a little silly getting bashful over nothing, so she clung to the hope that she wasn't just making it up).

(Y/N) felt her own smile tug at her cheeks, feeling shy at his compliment although he couldn't see her. She quickly typed out another comment before he could get distracted by the tips coming in, urging him to start.

sunflowerssweetheart: thank you h!!:)

She knew she was most likely not going to get another response from him, seeing as her comment was very quickly buried under the new tips coming in, captioned with requests to start the show and asking for daddy to "show his cock".

"I see you're in a daddy mood tonight, again," he mused, slowly tugging his shirt off and revealing the collection of tattoos adorning his torso. He settled back into his seat, his chest now bare, "Good thing I am, too."

His skin looked soft as he relaxed, highlighted by the soft lighting that surrounded his set up. (Y/N)'s heartbeat picked up as she gazed at him through the screen. She wished she could meet someone like him in real life.

She watched on as he rubbed his palm along his thighs, the look of his long fingers scratching down the fabric of his pants catching her attention. She absently trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, imagining what it would feel like to have his hands warming her skin like that, sneaking under the hem of her satin shorts in search of the tie-dye thong she had concealed under the delicate fabric. She sighed as she watched one of his hands travel between his thighs, the full of his cock filling out the fabric of his trousers.

His hand cradled the outline of his hardened prick, giving the bulge a squeeze as a hiss sounded through her headphones. His stomach muscles clenched as his breathing stuttered. (Y/N) imagined his head rolling back on the headrest of the chair he sat in, blissed out at the feel of new relief.

"Daddy's been s'hard all day for you, s'hard," he groaned, his fist wrapping around his shaft as best he could as he emulated jerking himself off in teasing twists. "Took everything not to go off in the middle of m'day and make myself cum thinking of you."

She knew he was feeding them lines like from a script, designed to make each of his viewers believe he was talking only to them, but she couldn't help but fall for it. She liked to fantasize that he had thought of her the way she had thought of him. She didn't have even half the mind to be embarrassed as she slid her hand under the waist of her shorts, brushing against the softened fabric of her underwear. She felt flush as she found the wet patch that had soaked through her thong, the wetness seeping between her lips already.

He breathed a laugh that filtered through her headphones. "Already want me to pull m'cock out? We've barely even started, baby."

Her eyes fluttered as she took in his teasing. She knew he was most likely responding to the comments she had stopped bothering to read, but it felt like he was talking to her and teasing her for wanting to see and feel all of him. Her fingers pressed gently against her clit, the wet fabric of her panties sticking to her slit. She felt breathless.

She couldn't help herself before she typed another quick comment, hoping it would somehow sway him the way she needed.

sunflowerssweetheart: please daddy:(

She watched as he gave his cock a final squeeze before settling his hands on the armrests of the chair he was sat in. He clenched his fingers around the cushioned ledge, slowly standing from his position. His stomach with the bottom of his butterfly tattoo and the full of the laurels bracketing his hips were left in frame, but the crotch of his pants were the focus of the shot. His hands slowly worked the button of his trousers, the pace teasing.

"Well, since y'asked so nicely, sweetheart," he crooned, (Y/N) melting as he said the name—her name, again. She liked to think he was doing this for her.

With that, his tip meter went up like crazy; the chat was filled with the declarations of high amounts of money being donated to him sandwiched between viewers voicing their praise. He didn't seem to pay the rise any attention, keeping his focus on the show he was giving. His pants were left undone as he pushed them down to his knees with the grey of his tight boxers being left on display. The outline of his cock laid against his thigh with a small wet patch forming where his slit dripped precum. His hand slid down the muscles of his stomach, slipping under the fabric and wrapping his fist around his shaft. He let out a deep moan, his stomach tensing at the feel of his hand and the relief flooding his system.

"This what y'wanted, baby?" he teased, playing a game with his wanton viewers. He shifted his stance, standing with his side to the camera with his hand jerking off his cock in front of him. (Y/N) could see the outline of his fingers through the fabric, his rough tugging allowing small glimpses lower into his boxers. She could just imagine the smirk on his face as he knew what he was doing, going on with the teasing while he got what he wanted.

(Y/N) own fingers pressed headily against her clit, rubbing tight circles around the bundle at the sight on her screen. She'd never gotten this wet before she found his streams that drunken lonely night, no matter if she didn't get to see his face. She dipped her fingers behind her underwear, the slick of her slit wetting her fingertips. A small whimper left her lips at the contact, picturing H's long fingers slipping through her folds.

She wanted to see more of him; see more of his body she imagined was touching her's.

sunflowerssweetheart: more p lease daddy:( im so wet:(

Her comment was messy given the fact she was typing one handed, but she hoped it would be more enticing than embarrassing. She watched on as his motions slowed in his boxers, his hand sliding out from underneath the fabric. He hooked his index fingers into the waistband, tugging his boxers down just the smallest bit to reveal the beginnings of a dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

"You're 'so wet', sweetheart? All for daddy, right?" he continued, his mocking words feeling directed to only her despite the comments and tips rolling in to say otherwise.

sunflowerssweetheart: all for you daddy

Without another word, he tugged his boxers down the rest of the way. His cock sprung up against his bare stomach, his large butterfly tattoo now dotted with a string of his precum. The head was ruddy and flushed, the shine of his precum coating his shaft and playing off the lighting in his room. Still standing, he wrapped his fist around his cock and started fucking down his shaft in the same rough tugs he had kept hidden from them in his boxers.

"See how hard I am for you, baby?" he moaned, his free hand coming to cradle his balls in his large palm. (Y/N) swore her mouth watered at the sight, wishing it were her hands tugging at his prick, and her mouth wrapped around the head. She wanted to make him feel good.

"Mm, yeah?" he moaned, his fist speeding up, "Like seeing daddy fuck himself for y'like this? Bet y'wish it was your hand, right, baby?"

(Y/N) let out a loud moan at his dirty talk, feeling unencumbered by the empty apartment she was holed up in. It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking. Her own fingers stuttered over her clit, the wetness seeping between her thighs making a slick noise with each pass. She watched on as he sat back down, his cock standing straight up in his lap.

He worked his pants and boxers further down to his ankles, allowing him to spread his legs further apart. She could see clearly between his thighs, the way his hand gently cradled his balls and the rough tugs along his shaft. He let out coarse moans as he stopped and squeezed at the head of his cock, his chest stuttering in correlation with his breathing.

"Feels so fucking good, you know that? Thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around daddy's cock." His voice was low and deep as he prattled on about his fantasy, his accent wrapping around his title and causing the fire to burn brighter in (Y/N)'s tummy.

"Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, sweetheart? Daddy's big cock fucking your mouth, making y'gag and get all messy for me." The hand he had cradling his balls shifted from it's spot between his legs, stopping on the straining muscles of his stomach. His hand on his prick sped up, his moans deepening with incoherent mumblings about how good he felt. (Y/N) felt her heartbeat increase in her chest as she watched the hand on his stomach dig his nails into the butterfly etched across his skin at the pleasure coursing through his system. His thighs tensed at the feeling, small red marks appearing on his skin as he drug his nails across the expanse.

"Feels s'fucking good, shit."

(Y/N) wished it could be her to cause those moans to leave his lips, the image of her sat between his thighs spurring on her own arousal.

She watched with her hand in her panties as he brought himself closer and closer to release, moans spilling from his lips and filtering through her headphones. He varied the pace of his strokes, speeding up and bringing himself close to finishing with groans of how good he felt and how he was s'close to cumming for his baby, only to stop and slow down. He would pause with his hand settling on his base, squeezing roughly to stave off his orgasm and prolong the show. Tips were flooding in the whole time, viewers urging him to cum, telling them how they wished they could be there with him, requesting different things from him. H replied to a few, bringing in more tips and comments from his audience.

(Y/N) couldn't stop herself before she brought her unoccupied hand to her keyboard, wanting to gain some kind of attention from him to bring herself that much closer to her own release.

sunflowerssweetheart: ur cock is s pretty daddy I cant wait to see u cum please

A groan bubbled from her onscreen performer, his tugs along his shaft speeding up. "Y'think daddy's cock is pretty, sweetheart?"

He sounded breathless as he replied to her, his name for her accompanied with a small shudder as he swiped his thumb over the precum soaked crown of his prick. (Y/N)'s own weeping hole gushed more wetness, soaking the already ruined panties and now the inseam of her satin shorts. She snuck a teasing finger towards her entrance, the base of her fingers still rubbing at her clit.

sunflowerssweetheart: so pretty daddy

sunflowerssweetheart: i wanna see u cum so bad

Another loud moan filtered through her ears after she pressed enter, H—hopefully—having read her comment. He spread his legs further apart, his hand reaching towards his heavy balls again as his thighs clenched at the contact.

"Y'want daddy to cum, sweetheart? Are y'close, too? Don't wanna cum without you." His voice was graveled as he moaned out his words, (Y/N)'s eyes closely following the rhythm of his tugs. She mimicked the pace with her own fingers, slipping a single digit into her hole and rubbing the heel of her palm into her clit.

She wanted him to cum so badly, to see the sticky ropes of his orgasm be released all over his tummy and his hands she wished were her's instead. Despite the other comments rolling in, declaring how close the other viewers were, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to type her own response back, even if he didn't catch it.

sunflowerssweetheart: im so close daddy i wanna cum with you

"Okay," he crooned, his voice breathless while still being able to pull off the sultry tone he had mastered, "Daddy'll cum with y'sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard for you."

She was too distracted with her own pleasure to write anything coherent back, her finger soaked inside her pulsing pussy. Her walls tightened around her digit, fantasizing what H would say if it were his fingers stretching out her pussy instead. She settled for watching the way his chest took on a pinkened flush as he grew closer and closer to the release he promised. Small, strangled groans spilled from his lips, only interrupted by the moans of curses detailing how good he felt. His hand made squelching sounds as he pumped his cock, the slick of his precum making it that much easier for his fist to pass over the length in slick runs. His thighs tensed and split wider apart as he melted in his seat. From the top of the frame, where his neck was displayed with thick veins and tendons protruding from under the dewy skin, the smallest of deep brown tendrils of hair were peeking out and curling at his jawline.

"Gonna be a lot, sweetheart, can already feel it. Gonna be s'much cum for you," he groaned, his fingers now focusing on the head of his cock as his other hand gently tugged on his balls and brought himself closer. A whimper left (Y/N)'s throat, fighting to keep her eyes open as she didn't want to miss a minute of his show.

"Y'wan—fuck," he was cut off by his own moaning, the swear falling from his lips like he had no knowledge of it beforehand, "Y'wanna see it, sweetheart? See all the cum daddy saved for you all day?"

(Y/N) nodded despite the fact he couldn't see her. His tip meter surged higher in a matter of seconds at the mention of him cumming, peaking over his usual average. More and more comments rolled in, pleading for H to cum and show everyone what he had apparently saved for them. (Y/N) didn't mind being a part of the slew of comments, her mind somewhere else and too occupied to think clearly.

sunflowerssweetheart: yes pleas e daddy

"'Please, daddy?'," he mimicked, voice pitched and whiny as his cock jumped with a small blurt of precum pearling on his tip, "So polite, s-sweetheart, can't say no to you."

Only a moment later, with his fist roughly tugging at the shaft of his prick, white ropes of cum painted his chest. They shot high enough for droplets to stand out starkly against the inked, black birds sitting on his chest, others dripping down his cock and coating his hands in the release. He wasn't lying when he had said it would be a lot. (Y/N) watched with hooded eyes as sprays of cum coated the butterfly on his stomach and the strong hands that had captured her attention the whole show. His deep moans flooded her ears, strings of curse words and uninhibited groans coming from deep in his chest. His skin was dusted a rosy pink as he breathed in stuttered, broken breaths.

Watching him cum was enough to bring (Y/N) over the edge, imagining herself there with him where she could have cleaned up for him. She came, thinking of how it would feel to trace her tongue along his chest and lick up the salty release from the muscles before cleaning his fingers and hands.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," she called as she came, her fingers on her pussy rubbing heart stopping motions on her clit and small thrusts of her finger inside. She became impossibly wet, her release spilling past her finger and drenching the delicate fabric of her shorts. She felt the aftershocks go through her as she pictured how nice it would feel to have the weight of his big cock resting on her tongue and the taste of his cum in the back of her throat. She couldn't ever cum like this before finding H.

She hadn't realized she had fluttered her eyes closed until she heard his deep voice still breathing small moans filter through her ears, causing her to jerk her head up and blink away her cum-laden thoughts in favor of catching the end of his show. She kept her hand in her panties as she came down, delicately slipping her fingers through the mess she had made.

H was still sitting in his chair, his strong chest heaving and blushed a subtle red. His hand kept steadily jerking his cock, his member jumping as small spurts of leftover cum blurted from the tip. He came down slowly, taking longer than usual, though (Y/N) wasn't surprised if the amount of cum he had obviously been saving was anything to go by. She looked through the comments rolling in, finding the tip meter had gone higher than she had ever seen it before.

Many were asking for him to cum again, to keep the show going. (Y/N) couldn't deny that a greedy part of her wanted the same, but she could tell by the labored breathing and the way it looked like it hurt him to even tuck his cock back into his boxers, that he was much too sensitive to cum again.

A breathless laugh sounded from his end, his posture straightening as he reached for something off screen. He came back with a baby blue towel in his hand, gently wiping the cum off his chest and his hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but pout a bit at the idea of him wasting it.

"Can't cum again tonight, baby, but I'll be back soon," he said, his voice going back to the way he had started the stream. He sounded huskier, like he was tired with his tongue lazing around the words, but she liked it. She liked when he sounded just as exhausted as she felt; it made it easy to pretend this was some form of aftercare where he would cuddle her until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) slipped her fingers out of her panties, already itching to get out of the now cold garments. She watched on as H straightened himself out, preparing for the end of his stream. His voice always took on a romantic croon at this point, the show becoming something so personal that made it easy to come back no matter how sleazy she felt afterwards.

"I adore y'so much, love. Thank y'for spending your night with me. I'll be back soon, wait for me."

Then, the screen cut to black.

The chat ceased with all other comments emptying and his tip meter going blank. With shaky hands, (Y/N) quickly logged out of the page and exited out of the site, leaving her on her previous Etsy shop pages. She carefully pulled out her headphones, stowing them away before standing on shaky legs.

Her thoughts filtered around her camboy (it felt like such a filthy phrase for someone like him, but she knew it was the reality) as she tugged her soiled shorts off along with her ruined thong. She listened closely, hoping her roommate hadn't come home early to see her walk of shame to their washing machine. Once she was in a new set of more comfortable pajamas, she dumped her clothing in the almost full machine, adjusting the settings before allowing it to run.

She washed her hands in the kitchen before trailing back towards her room. She passed her bag she clumsily dropped in the hall when she had got home, a bundle of notes sticking out from the open flap. As she picked up her bag, careful to not let the pages spill any further, she examined the notes.

As soon as she caught sight of the precise highlights and neat writing, she remembered the way Harry—not Edward—had so graciously loaned her his notes, her kind seatmate. She smiled, her first clear thought since finishing her stream with treatpeoplewkisses. She tucked the papers back into her bag, taking it with her into her room.

She couldn't help but feel sleepy as she left her bag by her desk on the floor, knowing she would have time to take a nap if she wanted to. Ny shouldn't be home for another hour or so, so she had time to snuggle into her mass of pillows and pretend the boy she had just watched on her laptop screen would cuddle her to a sweet sleep.

God, she was so happy she found H.

—————

(Y/N), with borrowed notes in hand, immediately pinned her eyes on her unassigned-assigned seat in the lecture hall, finding Harry already sat just where she hoped he'd be. He had his own gaze fixed on the perfect setup he had in front of him, the polar opposite from the mess he had worked through earlier in the week. A smile spread across her cheeks at the sight of him, still extremely grateful for the act of kindness he offered on Monday.

"Hi Harry," she greeted as she approached her seat, dropping her bag on the linoleum beside it.

He whipped his head up at the sound of her voice, eyes wide and cheeks pink, "Oh, hi, (Y/N)." A shy smile bloomed over his lips as his eyes met hers.

Settling into her spot, she offered his notes back, "Here's your notes, by the way."

Harry carefully took them from her grasp, rolling his lips between his teeth despite the clear dimples denting into his cheeks. "Thank you," he sighed, "Were they any help?"

She was hoping he would ask something of the sort. (Y/N) was extremely proud of the notes she was able to pin together with the help of his template, and she wanted to show him. "Yes, they were really helpful, Harry! Look at my notes," she said, cracking open her laptop and tapping open her physics folder. She angled the screen to show off the typed up version of his notes, the pages making more sense than the weeks of documents she already had saved, "They've never made sense like this before."

Ending with a breathy laugh, she waited for Harry's reaction. She watched on as a bright smile curled his lips, too large of a grin to be contained by the grip of his teeth. "Really?" he looked to her over the frames of his glasses, his blush reaching the tips of his ears.

"Mhm," she hummed the affirmation, sliding her laptop to sit in front of her regular spot, "You didn't have to give me your notes, so it really does mean a lot that you were willing to help me. Thank you, Harry."

"'M jus' happy I could help," he smiled, voice quiet and soft, "Thank you."

Her brow furrows at his unnecessary gratitude for her words, especially since she hadn't done anything but thank him for something kind he did. Still, she could tell there was a bashfulness that tinted his words and his voice, something that was making him nervous just like he was when he offered the notes in the first place. She didn't want to make it worse or even discourage him from talking to her again by bringing up his misplaced appreciation.

"You really like physics, huh? Like this is your class?"

(Y/N) settled into her seat, turning her body to give Harry the full of her attention. He shrugged his shoulders under the white satin shirt he had hanging open over the black top underneath. "Yeah, kinda," he mumbled, "I don't know—I know it's kind of weird, but it's really interesting to me, to be able to quantify things we can't see."

"It's not weird at all," (Y/N) said, shaking her head, "When you say it like that, it sounds really cool. I just wish I understood it; your notes helped me get this, but the rest of this class—I doubt I'll be so lucky."

Harry mimicked the short laugh she let out, his eyes dropping to her lips before he rolled his own between his teeth. "Yeah, it can definitely be complicated sometimes; you're not alone."

Stanfill made his appearance then, abruptly halting the first real conversation she'd had with anyone in her physics class and with Harry, of all people. Just as (Y/N) had said, she doubted she was going to be so lucky with the rest of the course, already knowing her next set of notes were going to be nothing compared to the aided ones she was so proud of. Nonetheless, as Professor Stanfill started off on his lacking presentation, she tried her best to keep up.

Halfway through the lecture, (Y/N) noticed the slight angle Harry's paper had taken. The page was tilted just enough to give her a view of the pieces of information he was writing down with the headings and section starters clear for her to read. She didn't know if it was on purpose, but she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get another good set of notes that were going to make a lot more sense than whatever was being projected up front. Every time Harry stopped writing and leaned back just enough for her to get a look at what he was copying down, she did her own information search and put down the same headings and shorthand versions of what was scrawled over his page.

It wasn't until he hesitated to turn to a fresh page for him to fill, that she realized Harry was doing this on purpose. He instead tore out a stark new page, continuing where he left off while keeping what (Y/N) was still copying down in her view instead of tucking it away. A smile took her features as she figured out that none of his actions were an accident that she was taking advantage of—he wanted to keep helping her.

When Stanfill finally dismissed class, assigning reading for the weekend that (Y/N) couldn't help but be relieved about (at least she knew she wasn't missing a lab if this was their homework), it was a blessing. She didn't pack up with the same speed as she was used to, lagging behind in her movements in an effort to speak to Harry some more.

"Thank you for letting me see your notes," she smiled, tossing him a glance through her lashes as she tucked away her laptop.

As another blush crept over his features, (Y/N) worried he was going to permanently shift tones with the amount of times the blood was brought to the surface of his cheeks. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

"I just get kind of lost when he references stuff we're apparently already supposed to know or things we went over before. It's hard enough to learn something I have no idea about, and then when he compares it to something else I know nothing about, it doesn't help much," (Y/N) smiled, letting out a breathy laugh, "So thank you for letting me get a few more good notes in."

(Y/N) slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing for her phone she had stashed in her pocket and her keys. Harry was quiet with a small smile on his features, continuing to pack up the array of utensils he had for his notes.

"Well," she started, slowly edging towards the column of stairs beside their seats, "I'll see you on Monday, Harry. Have a nice weekend!"

He stopped at the sound of her goodbye, stiffening as he rushed to close the flap on his bag. He looked to her through his lashes, swallowing before straightening and slinging his bag over his shoulder. "(Y/N), wait," he called, causing her to stop halfway down the case.

"Hm?" she hummed, turning towards him to find him having a hard time meeting her eyes and enough blush coloring his face she worried about his blood flow. He lagged around a response, the few stragglers from their class having shifted their attention towards the small scene he created. (Y/N) beckoned him towards her, calling for him to join her out into the hall.

Harry almost stumbled at least twice as he caught up with her, following like a puppy as they made it out the heavy doors that guarded the lecture hall.

"Everything okay?" she asked, wondering about his earlier effort to keep her from leaving him behind.

"Yeah—I, uh," he floundered, eyeing the ground with each step of his busted Vans, "I was wondering if y'wanted help with physics? Like, tutoring and things like that?" He swallowed around his words, finding the courage to look at her over the frames of his glasses, "You said that m'notes helped, and, if y'wanted, we could go over some of the older units and I can explain some things better. But, we don't have to if y'don't want. 'M sure you're busy and we can do like we did over the weekend and I can send y'home with some of m'notes if y'liked that better but... yeah."

He ended lamely with his gaze landing in its previous position pinned towards the ground. They had stopped walking to stand in the same corridor that he had offered his first set of notes in, though he seemed to be decidedly more nervous this second time around.

(Y/N) smiled at him from where he stood wringing the strap to his bag in his fist and scuffing his toes into the ground. She decided Harry was entirely too sweet to be so nervous over offering her some help she clearly needed; it was obvious he was really shy, but she found it cute.

"I would actually really appreciate that, Harry," she said, waiting for him to look at her so he could hopefully replace the nervous set in his jaw with a shy smile she was becoming familiar with, "I would love any tutoring you're willing to offer. I definitely need it, that's for sure."

His fumbling fingers froze in the nylon of the bag strap, perking up with the smile she was hoping she would catch, "Really?" A lone curl flopped over his forehead, a boyish look taking over his giddy features.

"You've seen my sorry excuse for notes without you—you're going to change this entire course for me if you're offering actual explanations now too."

"'M jus' happy to help," Harry offered simply, something prideful settling in the broad of his shoulders.

(Y/N) fished her phone from her pocket, tapping in her passcode and pulling up her contacts before handing it out for Harry to take. "Here," she urged, "Put your number in and we can figure out times and schedules and everything."

If it was at all possible, Harry flushed a deeper pink. His skin stood out starkly against the creamy white of the button down hanging off of his shoulders, his hands exhibiting a barely there tremor as he reached for her phone. He nodded his head, the curl that brushed his forehead swaying at the movement.

Harry was quick to fill in his information, leaving his contact rather bare before handing it back to (Y/N) with a small There.

Saving the contact, (Y/N) stuck the device back in her pocket. She started edging towards the parking lot where her car was waiting, tossing Harry a smile over her shoulder. "I'll text you later, okay?"

A bright smile took Harry's features, dimples dented into his cheeks with the full of his smile on display. "I look forward to it!"

(Y/N) stifled the small laugh that bubbled in her chest at his endearing enthusiasm. "I'll see you later, Harry!"

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment as he offered her a small wave before she turned towards the parking lot. Though, she never lost her smile since she swore she felt a pair of eyes following after her.

—————

gravity is a force of attraction, keeping all matters in line.

ahhh!!!! he's finally here!!!! its been well over a year since I first posted my camboy blurb and I've finally got his story ready for everyone to see!! patreon is getting early access to this piece, so if youre ready for more there is more up on my page!!! otherwise, I cannot wait to see what you guys think as I post a new part every Friday on here!!! thank u sm for reading and being so patient w me! sorry if theres any mistakes and if you have any ideas of whats coming next or any thoughts please send them in!!