One Of My Favorites Pieces Here On Tumblr 😩

favorite trope 🤍

I can just imagine him being an absolute horny mess when he’s on his heat and she’s like bro… get your shit together cause their out with friends or something he’s like being really rude to anyone trying to talk to her and he just wants to go home and fuck her senseless

Oh my god but yes. (If you don’t like abo/wolfrry skip this piece!)

-

He’s never miscalculated his rut before.

Harry had always had to be careful because he was the leader of his pack, he had to plan accordingly for when he was out.

YN wasn’t a wolf, she couldn’t scent him in the way he could scent her - he could smell her heat from days away.

It starts when they’re at dinner with a group of friends, Mitch and Sarah, Niall and Jayla, Zayn and Chelsea, Louis and Eleanor.

Harry’s normally very subdued in public, he hates going out anywhere and wants to be home - safe at their home whenever possible.

He begins to pick up YN’s scent so heavily it’s making him dizzy as she sits next to him - unaware as she’s drinking and laughing.

She smells like the purest piece of heaven on a bad day and right now she was radiating something so beautiful Harry could feel himself hardening up.

This never happened but he was nearly blinded with his arousal for his mate that he couldn’t even care or notice.

At first, YN doesn’t think much of it when his nose nuzzles at the nape of her neck, a low grumble emitting from his chest.

“I think that lip color looks great on you,” Mitch compliments innocently as they discuss makeup and outfits.

“Don’t fucking talk to her,” Harry snaps at his subordinate, Mitch lower his head in confused submission.

“Harry,” YN scolds, pulling him away from her neck with a hand in his hair, his eyes boring into hers with possession and adoration, “Be nice.”

“M’nice,” He rasps unbothered, his lips returning to where he just scented and bit down at base of her neck with enough power to ache, “Treat you so good, don’t I? M’a good mate, yeah? Take care of my little omega. Feed you, bathe you, fuck you.”

“Jesus,” Niall mumbles when he hears the leader trying to seduce her, he shakes his head, and they try to talk loudly enough other tables won’t hear.

This was so unlike Harry that YN was concerned.

“Come with me,” YN tells him, intertwining their hands and leading him into the bathroom and locking the door.

“Yea, good pet,” Harry purrs as his hands go to hike up the bottom of her dress, “M’gonna give it to you right now, stuff you full, yeah? With my pups, gonna give it to you, my mate.”

“Damn it,” YN curses as she slaps his hands away, earning an annoyed growl as his mouth literally waters for her.

“Can smell you,” He taunts in the low alpha bravado, eyes intense and unwavering, “S’dripping down your thighs yet, baby? Let me lick you clean.”

“Are you- fuck, why didn’t you tell me it was time for your rut? Big dumb alpha,” YN hisses as she gives his chest a light smack.

“Submit,” Harry orders in his low timber, his hands back at her skirt - he could basically taste her cunt on his tongue right now.

“Not here, you dick,” YN shakes her head as she takes his car keys from his suit jacket pocket, “We’re not starting your rut in a restaurant bathroom, we’ll never get you out of here.”

“You want it though? Yes?” Harry crows as his hand cups her neck, “Want my pups? Sweet girl, tell me.”

YN’s eyes soften a bit, her hand coming to caress his cheek, “Yes alpha. Let’s get home so I can show you, okay?”

-

IMPORTANT!!

i’m left heartbroken and disgusted by the events that take place in this world. it leaves me questioning the existence of beings. what hurts me more is seeing how quiet this community is on the issue. you have platforms with a 1,000+ followers and willingly choose to stay silent.

please educate yourselves and take a look at what’s happening in palestine. i have friends with families who are fighting for their lives right now. these people have been fighting oppression for decades. use your privilege for something. use your platform for something. please i’m begging you. just because it isn’t directly affecting you doesn’t give you the excuse of staying silent.

a reminder that if you choose to stay silent in the face of oppression, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.

here are some resources:

educate yourself

petition to help palestine

another petition

educate yourself some more

watch this video to donate to palestine (3hrs)

another video to watch to donate (1hr)

(don’t skip ads + u can just leave these playing in the bg!!)

donation thread for palestinians in need

more donation links

paliroots

please reblog for exposure!!

los dos crushes más grandes q tuve los combinaste en este escrito. GRACIAS UMA

JUST A LITTLE CRUSH

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | ACTRESS!YN

Summary: Harry and Y/N are costars in Dunkirk and they are off to a good start, the only downside is that she has a boyfriend, and who that boyfriend is.

W/N: okay! just a few things you guys need to know: Y/N is argentinian, which means she's latina and she'll talk in spanish sometimes but don't worry, i'll always put the translation next to it!! and camila morrone is her faceclaim but you know i always write a neutral reader. AND you know how this works, it's like SF, gangrry and nerdrry (wow, that's a lot): blurbs, concepts and one shots requested by YOU! hope you enjoy this, love u <3

━━━━━━━

Y/N was very excited about this role.

She'd worked for big movies and franchises, but she still got excited every time she got a new one.

She remembers when she first told her dad she wanted to do this, she was eight years old, and they were still living in Argentina before they had to move because of her mom's job.

"Cuando crezca quiero ser actriz, actuar con el chico lindo de la peli del barco." When I grow up, I wanna be an actress, to act with that boy from the movie of the ship.

Her father looked at her sideways, and laughed. "Leonardo Dicaprio?"

She nodded furtively, and he shook his head. "No creo que llegues así de lejos, Y/N. En Argentina es raro que alguien sea internacional." I don't think you'll get that far, Y/N. In Argentina it's rare for someone to go international.

Sure, her father nearly went into cardiac arrest when she started dating Leonardo Dicaprio fourteen years later. They've been together for six months, and Y/N swears she's never been happier in her life.

But then why when she first saw Harry she felt like something was missing?

She obviously knew who he was, she remembers the hype One Direction caused in Argentina in 2014, but she never thought she'd see him in person. Until she arrived on the set of Dunkirk hand in hand with her boyfriend, and Styles was ready to show off his acting chops.

Harry also knew who she was, he'd seen a couple of her movies and loved them. He waited for the great Leonardo Dicaprio to turn away from her to speak to Christopher Nolan, and there was nothing like hearing her thick accent to sweeten his ears.

"Hey, you're Y/N Y/L/N." He immediately cringes at his words, but she still laughs and shakes his hand.

"And you're Harry Styles."

He felt stupid for getting excited because she knew who he was, but he made a mental note to watch all of her movies once he got to the hotel.

Y/N looked at him silently, and sighed. "Eh... you're the selfish soldier, right?"

She smiles when she hears him laugh, and Harry scratches his nose with his index finger before replying. "Yeah. And you're the infiltrator, right?"

Right.

Y/N's role was about a woman who infiltrated in the army to go fight in Dunkirk, she had to cut her hair at the nape of her neck to disguise that she was a man, and she had to work hard to make sure no one suspected. If she gave it her all, maybe this role would get her an Emmy nomination.

"Yes, I miss my long hair though." The Argentinian says, scratching the back of her neck.

"I miss mine too."

The two laugh and chat for a while longer. Y/N can finally understand why everyone had an obsession with him, he was so much cuter and nicer in person, and they seemed to have chemistry which was important for their scenes together. She was excited, wanted to know more about him.

Harry felt a tingle in his fingertips as they talked, she exuded humility and charisma, he knew Argentinians were like that, but now he could experience it firsthand. He felt ashamed, he knew she was in a happy relationship, so he would settle for just being her friend.

"Okay, I gotta go to the make-up trailer." Y/N says, clenching the strap of her purse between her hands.

The green-eyed boy nods. "Yeah, that's fine."

The Latina smiles, and starts walking away backwards. "Chau, Harry." Bye.

He swears his name never sounded so good without that intense H in his name, and he gives her the love and peace sign, watching her walk away to go to her phenomenal and perfect boyfriend.

That night, he watches all her movies at the hotel. And secretly, while her boyfriend slept next to her, she listened to all his songs with her headphones. First time they've seen each other and they're already causing problems, this was bad.

But there was no chance that she'd leave Leonardo Dicaprio for him, so Harry continues ignoring this stupid crush on an actress, and she sleeps cuddled with her boyfriend.

It was just a little crush.

🥺🥺🥺🥺 cute cute cute

TEXTS BETWEEN PRINCE HARRY AND SF!Y/N (2014)

this is... horrible. | anterior part here.

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | SINCE FOREVER UNIVERSE

harry: I miss you ☹️

yn: drop the phone and go sing, you're in the middle of a concert.

harry: Wanna go on stage? 😀

yn: No.

yn: harry i swear to god

yn: WHY ARE YOU COMING TO MY SIDE OF THE STAGE

yn: HARRY NO

━━━━━━━

yn: where are u

harry: Niall's room.

harry: Everything alright baby?

yn: yes!

yn: it's just that i didn't wanna break into the hot tub alone :(

harry: I'm omw, you better be nakeddddd :p

━━━━━━━

yn: I think it's time we have this talk.

harry: Yes I know I used up all the black nail polish, but I promise to buy you more :(

yn: we're gonna talk about that later.

yn: now

yn: I really like the way that you're letting your hair grow.

yn: you're gonna keep it? <3

harry: I'm thinking of donating it. I wanna let it grow a lot.

harry: What do you think?

yn: i think that's gonna be the death of me.

━━━━━━━

yn: Harry?

yn: you're with kendall fucking jenner?

harry: Darling

harry: Jeff thinks it's a good idea.

harry: It's just a friendship between two public people, we're just gonna drink a coffee and that's it.

harry: The whole world knows I'm yours 😚

yn: You and I are going to have a talk when you get home.

harry: Yes my love

harry: I love you. Xx.

harry: I'm scared.

━━━━━━━

yn: prince harry

harry: ?

yn: your hair looks like you're a prince

yn: prince harry :)

harry: You spend so much time on Twitter I swear.

━━━━━━━

harry: what the fuck are those screams

harry: Baby honey you're ok???!!!!!

yn: THIS FUCKING SCARY MOVIE

yn: COME DOWNSTAIRS I N E E D TO CUDDLE.

harry: YES MA'AM.

━━━━━━━

yn: my dad heard us last night

harry: WHY ALWAYS THE SAME ??????????

yn: cause you can't keep your stupid mouth shut

harry: 😌😌😌

so good 😭😭😭💘💘💘💘💘

momentum

harry was the smartest person (y/n) knew, she just wished she could be on the same level as him.

part one (gravity)

—————

Harry gave (Y/N) his number. She had asked for it.

It had been two days since the interaction outside of Stanfill's room and Harry doesn't think his smile has waned once in that time. While he hadn't heard from her yet—other than a short message just to confirm she had the right contact for him—just the fact she had a way to contact him at all made his heart skip a beat.

He'd had a crush on her from the second she and her friend picked seats right in front of him that first day of syllabus week. When her blonde friend suddenly stopped showing up, Harry readily stole the seat beside her after taking a week to pluck up the courage and take advantage of all the free pep talks Mitch was willing to give him. He never imagined that she would talk to him for more than three seconds, let alone set up study sessions and ask for his number.

Even seeing her today in their physics course held a different air. He typically saw her through a dreamy haze anyway, but something had shifted during that ninety minute lecture. A wall that had been built on the premise that they were nothing more than polite seatmates had been knocked down, leaving a gateway for Harry to peek at her with a rose tinted lens coloring his vision. He was trying not to get too far ahead of himself, especially since there was nothing even set up for the tutoring sessions he offered her, but it was easy to get carried away in the possibilities of what might be if he was given the chance.

All he needed was for her to message him.

—————

if it isn't too short notice, maybe we could meet up tomorrow morning at the campus library????? if not that's okay I just want to get in as much study time as we can before that exam next week!!

(Y/N) pressed send on her text to Harry, not even having time to tuck it away before it buzzed in her hand.

Harry S. (physics)

thats perfect! I can do 10am if that works for you? I'll save us a table and bring my notes and everything too! Thank you!

A smile spread over her features without permission as she read over his text. Harry was entirely too cute to be fair; he was thanking her for letting him tutor her when it should be the other way around since he was the one actually doing a service. Nonetheless, she was endeared at how excited he was to help her no matter if it were one-on-one sessions or letting her copy off his notes for a lecture or two.

i'll see you then!! thank you!!

Flicking her gaze to the time displayed in the top corner of her phone, (Y/N) already had an excuse at the ready to let her disappear into her room for a couple hours. If she had it right, there should be a stream tonight in a few minutes that was becoming a source of well-needed stress relief for her and she didn't want to miss it. Even if Ny was staying in tonight.

"I think I'm gonna go through some of my physics stuff," she sighed, sitting from the cuddled position she took on the corner of the couch, "I finally have a tutoring session tomorrow and I don't want him to think I'm a complete dumbass."

Ny perked up at the mention of a him. "Is it Harry? The guy who's tutoring you?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "We're going to meet up tomorrow at the library."

She watched as Ny's face fell at the timing of her plans, "Wait, does that mean you're missing Willa's birthday party tomorrow?"

"No," she laughed, "Why would I set up a study session at ten at night? Besides, it's tomorrow morning, so I'll be back with plenty of time to still go to the party."

"Maybe you could invite Harry," her roommate suggested, her shoulders losing the tense they gained now that she knew their weekend plans were still intact, "I've never seen him at any of the Greek parties."

(Y/N) tossed around the idea, "I mean, I can but I'm not sure if they're his scene, honestly. Like, he just texted me saying thank you for letting him tutor me." Her lips moved into a pout as she shared the information, still completely endeared at the fact he was so ready to offer help and share gratitude when someone took it.

"No, did he really?" Ny gaped, sitting up from the curled position she took in their recliner.

"He did," (Y/N) affirmed, feeling every bit the same at Naomi's reaction, "He's too sweet. So, I don't think we've ever seen him at those parties because he just doesn't like to go. And, I also don't think I have the authority to be inviting people to Willa's birthday."

"It's not like she would be mad, especially if you told her what you told me, but I see what you mean. Anyway, just make sure to be home in time to pregame with me and get us in the right Uber this time."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and laughed before heading towards her room. It's not like she could say anything, since she had gotten into the same Uber, no questions asked, despite the way she knew Ny was too drunk to really know what a 2006 Ford Fiesta looked like.

As she dug out her laptop, she couldn't help but feel just a bit... gross knowing what she was going to watch while her roommate was just a wall away. But, call it what you want—stress, the looming idea of 'cuffing season' approaching, or the fact that she was becoming just a bit attached to the ritual of watching his shows—no matter what, (Y/N) was going to take advantage of the reprieve those streams offered. (And, who knows, this might just be her thing for the time being before she reverts back to a less scheduled form of pleasure).

By the time she had her door locked and her duvet fluffed around her, (Y/N) was a few minutes late to the stream. The chat was flooding through with comments just a hair too fast for her to catch anything specific with H's tip meter rising steadily. Sticking in her earbuds (keeping one out on the possibility that Ny needed something), she tuned into the show that was already in progress.

It seemed he had already passed over his intro, humming a low tone as he transitioned to the crux of the show. A burgundy knitted sweater covered his torso, the piece large enough to pile over his body in soft folds with sleeves that extended over the expanse of his hands to emulate paws.

"I've been rough with you these last few times, haven't I?" he drawled, the thick of his voice draping over her body, "I think it's time we slow down—I want to talk to you, baby." A soft sigh of a moan exited his throat, as if it were relieving just to think about taking it slow for today's stream. In the handful of times she'd tuned in, this was the most laid-back set up she'd seen from him. "Jus' a little tired today, but I still want to be with you, darling. Wanna cum with you— that's all I need."

(Y/N) swore her eyes almost fluttered to the back of her head at the sound of his request. If not for the fact she needed to keep an ear out for Naomi, she would have plucked the other headphone into her ear just so she could hear the full vibrato of his voice and the way his tongue lazed over the sensual words. She instead slipped her hand under the waist of her sweats, fingertips brushing over the cotton fabric of her underwear. Her eyes were pinned to the screen with her fingers just barely administering teasing brushes over her panties as H slowly rucked up his sweater and put the tanned muscles of his abdomen on display.

"Start with me, love, touch yourself with me," he beckoned. His sweater stayed folded to the top of his chest, leaving the ink of his tattoos and the buttery bronze of his skin to steal her attention in the lowlights of his set up before he tugged the waist of his own comfy pants to the middle of his thighs. He had forgone boxers for this stream, the usual waistband lacking as his cock bobbed against his bare stomach.

Her performer practically melted into the leather of his seat when his fingers slipped through the trimmed thatch of hair that surrounded his base before he wrapped his fist around the girth in a loose hold. A shuddering sigh racked through his body, the sound filthy enough that she didn't need his regular stream of commentary to know just how good he must have felt with his prick in his hand. More than any of the other streams, this one was entirely intimate with the theatrics of his daddy persona being left behind as he chased his own pleasure.

It was hot.

A slow pass of his fist over his length elicited a long moan to fall from his lips, the sound breathless and stuttering. He shifted in his spot, his head falling back with just the very ends of his deep brown hair falling into frame with his thighs spreading wider apart. He worked his hand lazily over his length, (Y/N) trying to match his motions with small circles around her clit through the fabric of her underwear. She watched through a hooded gaze just as he pulled his hand from his cock, disappearing out of frame. She swore she could have whined had she been alone, already missing the view of his stroking hand until she heard the unmistakable sound of H spitting. A second later, his now slicked hand dropped back into frame beginning to stroke over his length in faster pulls. A deep groan fell from between his lips. The sound reverberated through (Y/N)'s form, a choked moan getting stuck in her throat as she brought the pads of her fingers to the pearl of her clit.

"Are y'with me, darling? Feeling good?" he rumbled, his voice surprising her from the trance she fell into from his moans.

(Y/N) breathed deeply through her mouth, trying her best to keep the bubbling moans in her chest at bay. With her hand creeping towards the full of her panties, she chanced an opportunity to hopefully be noticed by H, her free hand typing out a quick comment despite the flood that was already streaming through.

sunflowerssweetheart: soo good h are you??

Just like always, he was able to pick her simple remark out of the far more dirty perspectives being broadcast to him through the chatroom. A smile could be heard in his tone, making (Y/N) crave to know what he looked like that much more.

"I am, sweetheart, feel s'good. Been such a long day, feels s'good to fuck into m'hand for you." His voice was lazy and slow, matching the pace of his fist over his shaft.

From this stream alone, (Y/N) was finding out just how easy it was for him to make her wet. He wasn't speaking in the same commanding cadence she was used to, with a dominating honorific leaving his lips. Instead, he simply spoke with a lazy tongue and an audible smile. Apparently, that was all she needed, the thick of his voice saying just about anything, to get her soaked through her panties. It only got better knowing that he was talking to her.

She ached to hear the self-claimed pet name fall from his lips again, to feel the honey of his tone drip over her body knowing that he had found her comments out of all the more enticing ones. It took an effort to peel her eyes from his heated form, his chest beginning to pinken as his breathing came in measured pants.

sunflowerssweetheart: im sorry it was long h was it good at least ?

(Y/N) felt a little silly as she pressed send. He had said he wanted to talk this stream, take things soft and slow this time around but she wasn't sure. Now probably wasn't the time for small talk when he had his cock in his hand and she was manipulating her clit through her soaked panties, but all she wanted was for him to answer her. If he decided it was a little too odd to commit to some small talk while thrusting into his hand, he would just ignore her comment and go on like normal.

H thumbed over his glistening tip, hips bucking upwards into the cup of his palm with his solid stomach muscles dancing. "D-Don't be sorry, sweetheart, 's all better now, right?" he breathed, thighs tensing as he brought his other hand to cradle his balls, "Better now that 'm with you—that I get to feel good with you. Wasn't bad, jus' long. Y'had a good day too, right, sweetheart?"

How he was able to make small talk sound like erotica, dripping over her skin like warmed honey, she didn't know. But, she wasn't going to complain either, especially since every uttering of her pet name sparked between her thighs.

The chat stream flooded with comments, many responding to the question he posed while his tip meter ran higher and higher. (Y/N), too distracted with her wandering hands as she plucked the gusset of her panties to the side and dipped her fingers between her folds, lagged in her response. She listened intently as H answered a few other comments, breathy moans thrown in between his words as he used other terms of endearment that only urged the want in her to hear the one that was just for her.

sunflowerssweetheart: long too but ur right its s much better now

sunflowerssweetheart: youve got me soaked through my panties h

Her fingers shook as she pressed send, her gaze lidded as she melted into her bed in anticipation of his response. With the cover of her sweats, she traced over her slit with the tip of her fingers. She coated her touch in the wetness seeping from her hole before sliding up to the pearl of her uncovered clit. Her body tensed at the teasing touch, imagining her wandering hands were that of the man on screen. If she tried hard enough, with the sound of his moans echoing in her ear and the slick noise of his hand working over his length, she could pretend the burn in her thighs was caused by the stretch of having his slim hips between them as he took care of her like he promised.

(Y/N)'s eyes had just barely slipped shut when she heard a grunting breath of a laugh disrupt the rhythm of H's stroking hand and corresponding moans.

"Got you that wet, sweetheart? Soaked through your pretty panties for me?" he drawled, the butterfly on his tummy jumping as he swiped his thumb over the tip, "'M happy I could help y'feel so good—'s m'job right?"

It seemed like his comment was more for himself than for the show he was putting on, his tone going quiet as he was lost in the feel of his hand working over his length. He ignored the flood of comments entering the chat, leaving (Y/N) only to concentrate on the sound of his voice echoing in her ears and the visual of him with his messily rucked up shirt and his flushed cock in his glistening grip. Her already slicked touch grew that much messier with her own squeaks of pleasure dying in her throat in an effort to stay quiet.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he responded to other comments, talking to his baby and his darling about how good he felt. She lost herself as she blissfully listened, her special name never being used now that he wasn't responding to her, but nonetheless his effect was felt on her body. The star of the show was the soft breaths he was letting out and the groans that reverberated through his chest and shook her own body—intimacy reigning supreme as she worked the pads of her fingers over her clit. That reoccurring visual of him tucked between her hips with his cock working through her got easier and easier to conjure with every soft moan that filtered through her ears.

She could imagine tucking her face into his neck with the slick sounds of her pussy opening to accept him inside, a sound she was substituting with the slick passes of his fist over his length. Her twiddling fingers circled her entrance in a mock tease, something she could picture him doing for her in an effort to commit to his promise of taking the night slow and spending all his time with her.

When she cracked her eyes open, she saw H keen into his own touch, a broken groan leaving his chest. The black tattoos inked on his skin stood out harshly against the burning pink that colored his chest. Her pinned gaze followed his free hand as it settled on the thick of his thigh beside the tiger's head etched into the skin. The blunt of his nails caught on the skin before he dragged them across to add a bite of clarifying pain to the bliss wrapping around his body. (Y/N) shuddered at the sight, melting into the bed under her with her back arching as she circled her clit in rough rounds. H seemed to mimic her reaction with his own spine curling upwards and his hand that had administered the mark on his thigh returned to tug at his balls in roughened pulls.

The fist curled around his length curated a quicker pace, puffs of air exhaling through his mouth that she craved to see. The butterfly on his stomach stuttered, wings fluttering as his muscles tensed and relaxed in the mounting pleasure (Y/N) matched in her own tummy. She didn't even need to dip her fingers inside, the rounds around her puffy clit bringing her closer and closer with stings of pleasure that almost felt like they were too much rattling through her body.

"Are y'close, darling? 'M so fucking close, gonna cum soon for you," H groaned, his voice holding a graveled quality like he'd just woken up despite the almost hourlong timestamp at the bottom of the stream.

(Y/N) copied the pacing of his fist over his shaft, circling her clit to match the motion of his hand. Her breathing came in harsh pants, moans dying in her throat before they could escape as she fought to keep quiet despite the pleasure tightening in her tummy. She wanted to cum with H, wanted to hear those groans that built in his chest and the spurting of his cum that he scripted to have saved for her.

"Are you close, sweetheart?"

She practically jumped at the sound of her pet name, her fingers in her panties stuttering before starting in double time as he called out to her unprompted. He wanted to talk to her, see where she was at in her own pleasure. God, that was almost enough to make her cum.

Even if he wasn't talking to her specifically like the hope in her chest yearned for, she was going to comment for him anyway.

sunflowerssweetheart: im so close h please please let me cum with you

She watched as his muscles practically liquified as he sighed, his hand tightening at the base of his cock in a rough hold before slinking upwards in tight strokes.

"I want to cum with you, too, sweetheart, can y'keep up?"

sunflowerssweetheart: i can h please

She wished she could talk to him in person during these moments; she wanted him to hear just how desperate she really was to cum with him and to see his pleasure. The keystrokes she posted for him weren't enough.

"Good," he groaned, the word stumbled between a sandwich of moans as he cupped the head of his cock in a massaging hold, "'M gonna count down, okay? And I want y'to cum wi-with me, sweetheart."

(Y/N) couldn't stop herself before a breathy promise of "Okay, okay, I will, H," fell from her lips. Still, she was quiet enough she hoped Ny wouldn't hear, but she couldn't quell the impulse to speak to him like she so craved to do in person. She didn't bother to type out a response, instead focusing her attention on the countdown H had promised her.

"Gonna start at ten, and you're gonna cum on one with me," he explained, lazy words warming her skin. She nodded as if he could see her, enveloped in the scene he was painting for her.

"Ten," he crooned, the number feeling more like a whisper as (Y/N) slicked her fingers over her clit with her eyes fixed on H, "Nine, fuck." His cock jumped in his hold as he continued down, his other hand cradling his balls that tightened against his base.

"Eight." His voice came out as something of a sigh.

"S-Seven."

Something about the fact that she was on a time limit, the sound of H's voice counting down, made (Y/N) clench around her fingers, ridges tight.

"Six." H's breath was all but gone with his skin flushed and precum sliding down his length before getting mixed in with the saliva that covered his shaft.

"Five—sweetheart, 'm so close, fuck."

(Y/N)'s hip bucked into her hand of her pet name, the circles she had committed to go around her clit dissolved into frantic smears of her fingers over the bud. She breathed in heaves of her chest, lungs drawing in the air deeply.

"Four," he rushed, the number feeling like an afterthought when he groaned almost immediately after, "'M gonna fucking cum, shit—three. Are y'ready, sweetheart? Want y'to soak your pretty fingers and panties for me—two."

With her jaw dropped and her eyes hooded, (Y/N) watched intently as his hand on his prick quickened into a blur with his muscles tensed and coiled in wait for the release he would gift himself. The folds of his sweater sat high on his chest, but (Y/N) already pitied the clean up H would have to endure to get his cum out of the fabric; this was going to be a messy one if the arching of his back and the rumbling groans were anything to go by.

"One."

Following right after the end of his countdown, H stayed true to his word and came. The spurts hit high on his chest, just barely missing the very edge of his sweater and instead painting the ink of his butterfly. His graveled voice let out soft groans with his still pumping hand milking his cock. The sight was enough to take (Y/N) to the edge, her back arching and fingers stuttering before stopping still on her sensitive bud. She mimicked the heavy breaths he let out with her muscles tensed and shaking.

Whispers of his name fell from her lips as she sunk into the down of her comforter, eyelids fluttering to a close as she floated back to earth. Her thighs were tight around her hand, pinning her fingers to her center despite the fact she was much too sensitive for the contact. Still ringing through her ears, she could hear H's own come down.

Cracking her eyes open into reluctant slits, she found that she had been right about his messy release. His cock was still tightly held in his grip but now he had ropes of cum reaching over his chest with the highest dotting over his sweater. His throat bobbed as he sucked in air to fill his crimson colored chest.

"Fuck," he whispered, a ghost of a smile audible in the word as he slowly released himself with stiff fingers. He righted himself in lethargic movements, laughing as he caught sight of his stained sweater, "Got a little messy, didn't I?"

(Y/N)'s fingers twitched at the sound of his drawling voice, drawing an aftershock to rattle through her body as she pushed on her clit. She watched through clear eyes as he reached for a baby wipe—a new addition to his set up it seemed—and cleaned off his chest and hand before tucking his member delicately back into his sweats. His recovery time lingered in the slow movements and long moments to recollect himself and even his breathing. She understood where he was coming from; without the theater and the extra layer of the dominating character he typically put on for the shows, this entire stream was built on the feeling alone that they could draw from their bodies. That kind of pleasure caused a wipe out.

Just as the time ticked to just over an hour long of the stream, H let out a tired breath of laughter. "Really did take m'time today, I guess," he smiled, pushing his sweater down to cover his chest as he drew closer to the camera for his outro, "Still, if you're not tired of me yet, 'm doing something special this weekend. I'll be posting links on my main page in a few minutes for one-on-one sessions through Monday. If y'can, I would love to have more time with you, darling."

H finished with his proper outro, requesting she wait for him before the screen cut to black with the rest of his layout emptying out until the next time he was in front of a camera. (Y/N) slipped her hand from her now soaked underwear, and replaced the lid on her laptop.

Sinking into the mattress, she shuddered her eyes and released a breath she hadn't meant to hold.

God, she needed a boyfriend.

A quirk of a smile was brought to her lips at the first coherent thought after a stream like that. Before (Y/N) could finish reveling in the pleasure and piece herself back together, a quiet knock sounded on her door. She bolted upright and plucked the headphone from her ear.

"Hey, I know you're doing homework but can you help me with the panini press? I think I broke it again," Ny called through the door, a huff to her tone at the mention of the kitchen equipment.

"Yeah, give me a second," (Y/N) responded, falling into the fluff of her bedding for a moment longer.

She just hoped her legs wouldn't shake when she got out there.

—————

Fall was (Y/N)'s favorite, especially the mornings, but that still didn't make her a morning person.

She awoke exhausted by the time her alarm went off so she could get to her study session with Harry. She and Ny had stayed up way too late falling down a rabbit hole of drag queen YouTube videos, keeping them up way later than (Y/N) had wanted considering she needed to try to be smart this morning. She hoped somehow Harry would be able to tick the lightbulb on in her head during this session, letting her get home by two this afternoon to nap before she and Naomi started on the night's plans.

Trudging through the campus quad, (Y/N) wrapped her heavy pink cardigan across her chest. Her bag with her laptop tucked inside was slung over her shoulder, the strap needing constant adjustment that only served to tick (Y/N) off just a hair more each time. The only pleasant thing so far had been the visual of the falling leaves around her, burnt oranges and robust reds that served an agenda of illusioned warmth. The needed distraction of her phone buzzing in her back pocket prompted her to reach for it, giving her grumped attitude a break from worrying over the strap of her bag.

Harry S. (physics)

Good morning! I saved us a table in the back of the second floor of the library by the nonfiction mystery section

(Y/N) read over the text a couple of times, trying to figure if she'd ever set foot in the 'nonfiction mystery' section of the library (wasn't that just true crime, anyway?). If she was being honest, she doesn't think she'd ever been to the second floor either—she and Ny weren't known for their stellar study habits. She could already see the building just around the corner of the English hall, hoping to somehow get a peek through the glossy windows to show where Harry had stationed them.

Stepping through the glass doors, the older librarian woman gave her a soft smile from behind the counter, a cart full of mismatched books behind her. (Y/N) reciprocated before drawing her eyes to the hanging directory that pointed her towards the staircase that would take her to the second floor. The signage that dictated which sections she was coming to pass were pasted to the side of towering book shelves. She scanned over the various study tables set up through the library, hoping to spot Harry no matter how far off base she was from his directions.

Finally, the nonfiction mystery (on the way there, (Y/N) decided it was just a fancy way to say true crime, no matter if they were shelved separately) shelves came into view. She craned her neck to peer around the organizers, finding a lone study table occupied by a familiar head of curly hair.

Harry's usual setup was sprawled in front of him, pens and highlighters and pristine notebooks taking up the rounded space. A pair of compostable coffee cups were at his right, closest to where (Y/N) planned on taking a seat—rough night, she figured, if she hadn't wanted to sleep in an extra twenty minutes she would have grabbed a cup too. A fuzzy, duckling yellow cardigan warmed his body, grey stripes running through the knit that complimented the plain black shirt covering his chest. His glasses were already perched on his nose as he read over the pages in front of him, his gaze flicking upwards when he heard her approaching steps.

A bright smile dug a pair of dimples into his cheeks, the green of his eyes especially bright against the red and orange tones running through the library. "Good morning!" he called with a wave of his hand.

"Hi," she smiled, rounding the table to the free chair beside him, "Sorry I'm a little late, it took me a second to figure out where you were."

"'S okay, no worries," he beamed, shy gaze following her as she took her spot beside him, "This is one of the harder places to find, so I figured it would be a nice spot for us to concentrate and everything."

(Y/N) nodded her head as she settled in, getting her own utensils and notes out to hopefully have Harry make sense of the work she'd put together this last month. Pulling open her file of notes, he interrupted her by pushing one of the togo cups towards her.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "I—uh—I got y'this, by the way. I hope 's right," he mumbled, a soft smile curling his lips though nerves edged the motion.

"Oh," she chirped, brows rising as she reached for the coffee with the inscription of the order on the side: a pumpkin chai latte with almond milk and whipped cream. A bright smile spread over her lips, "Harry, this is perfect! How did you know?"

The first gratifying sip that washed over her tongue worked like magic. The warmth of the drink slipped over her body with the added layer that it had been Harry who was thoughtful enough to grab it for her making it that much better. He even got her the largest size, too. What an angel.

A bashful smile poked at his lips, Harry dropping his gaze from hers to the hands wrapped around her taupe colored tumbler. "You've brought it to class before, and I jus'... remembered, I guess," he mumbled.

(Y/N) smiled around the sip she took. Harry was sweet. Every time she thought she had him dialed, he only broke those expectations and made new ones she was sure he would pass.

"Well, thank you, Harry," she beamed, settling her cup beside his, a perfect pair, "I'll get the next one then."

He was quick to shake his head, the curls of his hair flopping over his forehead to which he used a sweater covered hand to push the strands back. "No, no, y'don't have to. 'M jus' happy I remembered it right."

"We'll see," she countered, already trying to peek at his own order so she could surprise him, "So, where should we start?"

His gaze lingered over her form, the edging of his smile only deepening as she pulled out an empty notebook that matched the green of his own (she wanted to be prepared in case he recommended a better way to take notes). There was a shift in his demeanor once he zeroed in on his own supplies, dialing into his mastered subject. A pinch appeared in his brow, "Where does it get hard for you? Where was the first place y'got lost?"

A warmth burned from under her cheeks as (Y/N) rolled her eyes, "This is embarrassing, but the first unit."

She hadn't been lying or trying to lighten the mood with the acknowledgment of her embarrassment. There was a tint of humility following her into the session over having to show someone else just how far she was falling behind. (Y/N) has always been one of the lucky ones growing up, never having to study too hard or struggle too much with information retention, no matter how informal the initial teaching was. She wasn't at the top of her class, but she was typically able to get by just fine without the help of tutors or cram sessions, so she was more than out of her element to be asking for help. Nonetheless, she needed it and Harry being the one to offer it only sweetened the deal—even if she would struggle meeting his eyes during the most obvious of questions.

Harry didn't falter for a second as he flicked through his notes, features schooled into nothing but pleasant diplomacy. "Don't be embarrassed," he prompted, "Physics can be confusing, especially if y'don't have a basic understanding. We'll start from the beginning and go from there, alright?"

(Y/N) lagged in response, her just noticing the time elapsed when Harry looked at her through his lashes and over the frames of his glasses. A small smile tugged at a corner of her mouth as she nodded, "Okay."

A pink dusted over his cheeks before he pulled his attention from his notes. Harry started off with information he didn't even have scrawled pages on, taking her to the true base knowledge that built up to the course they were taking. (Y/N) did her due diligence, writing down anything  Harry deemed vital enough for her to remember. He took his time, pausing when she needed a moment and encouraging her to ask questions if he could see them in her expression. He was already worlds better than Stanfill, even if he more often than not couldn't look her in her eyes and stumbled every few sentences when he'd catch just how intently she was watching him.

It's only halfway through the session that his phone started incessantly buzzing in his bag at his feet. The first few times weren't too distracting, Harry able to move on without so much as glancing to his feet. It's when the vibration increased to several notifications every couple of minutes, as if he were a part of a tumultuous group chat, that his concentration broke.

The pink that seemed to constantly stain his cheeks flared to a brightened red. He peered down to his feet where his school bag rested against the legs of his chair. Looking to (Y/N) with an apologetically shy perk to his lips, he reached under the table, "'M sorry, jus'—Let me... I need to get that, I think."

(Y/N) nodded in response with a bright smile on her features, "That's fine, don't worry!"

Harry's face only deepened in the red color dusting his cheeks, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes darted across the notifications illuminating his screen. He stroked the screen in a few long scrolls, even more buzzing coming in as he did so that put him back at the bottom of the never-ending thread. He only took a moment longer to type out a few responses, seemingly quelling the group chat before shoving his phone clumsily back in his bag where it was silenced.

"Sorry," he repeated, running a heavy hand through the swirls of hair on the top of his head before anxiously adjusting his glasses.

"It's okay, I understand," (Y/N) chirped, Harry's eyes widening a barely noticeable amount at her words, "My friends put me in group chats all the time, and they all suddenly want to talk when I'm busy."

His expression relaxed some as she finished, the stiffened set in his shoulders deflating as he exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, 's annoying, for sure," he agreed, a tight smile on his lips. He darted his attention to the first unit's worth of notes they were going to go over now that (Y/N) had something to work off of, the blush on his cheeks depleting to the near constant pink he donned.

"Did you have any questions before we move on?"

—————

"Thank you so much for helping me, Harry, I really needed this."

(Y/N) beamed at him as she started packing up, slipping her laptop full of comprehensive notes and study tips into her bag. The time on her phone only ticked to a few minutes past one, almost an hour before she was hoping to get home. Though they hadn't taken as long as she thought, she felt more prepared and accomplished than she had even hoped for when walking into this session. Harry was the best teacher she could have found for a subject like this; though it was obvious he was extremely smart and passionate about the material, he didn't leave her behind or think her questions too obvious to give a thoughtful response. He had helped her understand concepts up to the current unit they were to be tested over, something she thought they would have to schedule another session to go over.

"Thank you," he smiled, shy under the praise as he organized his utensils to be arranged in his bag, "'S no problem at all."

She rolled her eyes at his unnecessary gratitude though a smile bloomed on her lips at how sweet he was. "You're an amazing teacher, really," she continued, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "Stanfill better watch out because you might be next in line for his job."

Her teasing elicited an airy laugh from him as he plucked his glasses from his face and tucked them into the case. "'M pretty sure he's tenured, but we'll see."

The dimples denting into his cheeks slowly filled to match the full of his cheeks as his smile fell. He turned to face her, his own bag hanging from the broad of his shoulder as he worried his bottom lip between his two front teeth.

"Do you—or, can I—I guess—walk y'to your car?" he mumbled, worrying the strap of his bag in the large of his hands. The toes of his shoes shuffled against the grey carpeted floor at their feet, reminding her of the first time he grew the courage to talk to her after class.

(Y/N) brightened at his offer. "Yeah, I would really like that. Thank you."

Harry visibly relaxed at her acceptance, his shoulders deflating into a natural slope and his grip on his bag lessening. Though the pink on his cheeks stayed ever-present, the tone something like a permanent stain on the skin.

She let him lead the way this time, still not sure exactly how she found her way so deep into the library. By the time they reached the ground floor, this smiling librarian that had greeted (Y/N) when she first arrived perked up at her station behind the desk.

"Bye, Harry," she called, a deep smile on her face that complimented the parenthetical lines that curled around the edges.

"Bye," he answered back, a shy tint to his tone as he offered a small wave in her direction.

Once they stepped into the tepid air of the autumn afternoon, (Y/N) looked up at Harry beside her. "Do you know her? The librarian."

A short shrug of his shoulders caused his bag to slip over the fuzz of his cardigan. "Yeah, kinda. I jus' spend a lot of time there—especially m'first year here, so..."

"That's sweet," she determined, trying to fall into step with him despite the length of his strides, "She seems really nice."

"She is," he agreed fondly, a small nod of his head bringing his curls into his eyes again.

After a beat of silence, the car park visible in the distance, (Y/N) chanced another glance up at her companion for the morning. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to invite him to Willa's party. "What are you up to tonight?"

If not for the rosy tint already laced over his cheeks, (Y/N) wouldn't have noticed the way it slowly deepened to a red as she asked about his plans.

"'M working tonight."

At least she checked before offering him the invitation, (Y/N) thought. "What do you do? Do you tutor people for real or secretly write all of Stanfill's scientific journals?"

"Oh no," he shook his head, a small laugh breaching the curl of his lips, "I do some online marketing for this place off campus—like social media interactions and everything."

"That's really cool," she answered politely, not entirely sure what place around here could afford social media marketing given the area was almost exclusively funded by broke college kids. (Y/N) had secured a close parking spot at the beginning of the day, but that only meant they had reached their destination before she was ready to say bye.

Harry stopped on the sidewalk behind her as (Y/N) turned on her heel to face him as she edged towards the driver's door. "Is it okay if I text you at all this week in case I need help with anything? To prep for the test, I mean."

His shoulders jumped and chest puffed as Harry straightened his posture. A bright smile spread over his cheeks, his dimples drawing her attention. "No, no, I don't mind at all. 'M always available."

(Y/N) smiled at his enthusiasm, reaching for her car door. "Well, I'll see you on Monday then, right? Have a nice night at work."

Nodding his head, Harry's smile only deepened. "Yeah, I'll see you on Monday, (Y/N)."

From her rearview mirror, she could see him waiting on the sidewalk for her. His hands were pulled into paws made from the knit of his cardigan, his grip loose around the strap of his bag. He only left after she had pulled out of the parking lot.

—————

(Y/N) felt good about this one, she couldn't lie.

The whole week after Harry's tutoring session, she had been reviewing her notes when she could. Her clarity on the subject only grew with each read through, to the point that she didn't feel the impulse to cram the night before. That left her with more than enough time to get a good night's rest and wake up without a sour expression at the sound of her alarm.

After getting through the first round of classes earlier in the day, (Y/N) took advantage of the gap between courses to keep her promise of getting the next round of coffee on her. Walking into Stanfill's lecture hall, the pair of togo coffee cups warmed her palms (her's was nothing more than a hot chocolate while Harry's was a perfectly plain black coffee). Her eyes immediately darted to Harry's usual spot in the back.

There, his typical set up was confined to his bag, leaving only a pen at the ready to fill out the exam. Lifting his gaze from the phone in his hands, Harry caught sight of her almost immediately. The usual pink tint that colored his skin made its first appearance of the day when he caught her eyes already pinned to him.

As she climbed the stairs, Harry tucked his phone into his bag leaving only the pen on the table to twiddle with. "Hi Harry," she greeted him, edging into her own seat beside him carefully, "I promised I would get our next round, so I hope I got your order right."

His smile only brightened as she passed off the cup to him, the wide-framed glasses already perched on his nose now resting on the full of his smiling cheeks. "Oh wow, thank you," he beamed, showing more gratitude than she thought appropriate for a cup of coffee, "Y'didn't have to do this at all, thank you."

"Of course," she smiled, settling in her seat with a set up matching his own with a single black pen, "I haven't had a single panic attack about this test, and that's all thanks to you so this is the least I could do."

His nose perked with a sunburnt red dusted over the tip, "Still... thank you."

Before she could form any answer, Stanfill made his appearance. A hush fell over the unusually full class. Harry went quiet despite the way she could feel his eyes darting to her every few seconds. The professor handed out a pile of tests along the front row to be dispersed across the room.

By the time one of the waning piles made its way to Harry, he leaned over as he passed her the last remaining test.

"Good luck, (Y/N)."

She peeked a small smile at him. "Good luck, Harry," she whispered.

By the time Professor Stanfill's voice rang through the hall, officially announcing the start time, (Y/N) felt good.

Until she read the first question.

She read over the question a pair of times before even glancing at the multiple choices. The four answers listed below weren't anything she would have even guessed, making it that much worse for her. Nonetheless, she wouldn't let this one question completely throw her off; she'd read through the rest of them and answer all the ones she knew, and hopefully one of the other questions would help her figure out the solutions to the ones she missed.

Hopping through the list, scanning over the questions and their offered answers, (Y/N)'s hope slowly waned. She didn't know anything.

Even with Harry's monumental help, she knew nothing that she was suddenly being tested over.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she tried her best to find any secluded answers hidden within other problems. Peeking to her right, she found Harry flying through the test with the multiple choices being colored in perfect bubbles. If he knew the answers, (Y/N) figured she was supposed to know them too since he taught her everything.

It was only when Harry flipped to the third page in the packet did she see the essay questions and formula breakdowns. That was when the very last of her hope drained, leaving only the warmth of the hot chocolate to keep her from going cold. How was she supposed to fill those out when she could barely navigate through offered answers?

But, she had to try something, right? She couldn't turn in a completely blank test; she'd always been pretty good at guessing, anyway.

Backtracking to the first question, she tried her hand at the complicated calculations, choosing the closest choice to her own answer. Down the line she went with minimal certainty, trying to make out some semblance of sense from the tangle that was forming in her brain. Beside her, Harry flew through the questions, fast enough that by the time she had painstakingly finished the first page, he was standing up with his bag slung over his shoulder.

He was the first to finish with a relaxed smile on his face, and a half finished cup of coffee in his hand.

With his glasses pushed up to the top of his head to hold his curls back, he scaled the staircase to the front of the hall. (Y/N) caught the quiet smile Professor Stanfill offered him as Harry started the finished pile in the bright purple tray on Stanfill's desk. She was sure he even knew that Harry had blown the entire exam out of the water.

(Y/N) watched as he lingered in the doorway. Harry caught her eye with an encouraging smile dipping a hint of his dimples into his cheeks. He offered her a private thumbs up in her direction, tipping his chin before heading out into the hall to leave her behind.

The rest of the ninety minute class (or forty-five by the time Harry had left her to her own devices) went by like humiliating torture. After edging through the multiple choices, she hesitantly flipped the page to the essay questions that taunted her. She tried her best to guess through them, recalling anything Harry might have taught her to aid in the dissection of the problems and breakdowns of the formulas.

She didn't have much hope remaining by the minute, but the singular drop she had clung to was wiped away the second Stanfill called time. Looking up from the unfinished handful of questions, (Y/N) found only three others that were in her same situation. At least they had an excuse, she decided, she didn't recognize any of them from the regular lectures so it wasn't like they had any of the notes or knowledge she should have.

(Y/N) couldn't meet Stanfill's eyes by the time she placed her test in the purple tray she had dreaded approaching since reading that first question. Still, she offered him a small smile she wasn't even sure he caught before she turned on her heel and followed the same path that she witnessed Harry forge almost an hour previous.

Sitting in her car, (Y/N) couldn't find it in herself to start the monotonous ritual of heading home right away. The high she had started the day with seemed so far away, not even the hot chocolate she barely managed to remember to take with her could sweeten her mood. How she was able to go from completely secure and confident in her knowledge to fucking herself over, she didn't know.

Today sucked.

A buzz from her phone took her attention, a grateful distraction. The notification lighting up her screen showed off a text from Harry.

Harry S.

How'd it go?!

Reading over the text only made her feel worse. Not even the smartest person in class—and probably the smartest person she knew—could make sense of anything in her head, preparing her in the smallest bit for an exam like this. It was embarrassing.

But, she wasn't going to tell him that. Not right now.

it was good i think! we'll see when grades are out !!

At least now she could go home.

—————

"Are you sure you don't want to come tonight? I don't want to leave you alone when you're sad," Ny pouted as she pressed (Y/N) again with one foot out the door.

"I promise I'm fine, I don't think I'd be much fun tonight anyway," (Y/N) reassured her, bundled in a too big sweatshirt and a pair of tattered sleep shorts.

While (Y/N) loved Ny, tonight was not the night to go to the Kappa Sig house and get drunk enough to moan and cry all over a bunch of people who don't care that she bombed her physics test. She'd much rather indulge in natural stress relief, instead.

"You're sure?"

"Promise," (Y/N) repeated, "Just text me if you need me to pick you up or anything."

"I will." Ny smiled though the motion leaned more towards a pout no matter how much (Y/N) tried to reassure her. "I'll tell you everything when I get home."

That drew a breathy laugh from (Y/N) before she sent Naomi off with a call to be careful and that she was looking forward to whatever stories she brought home. She reveled in the quiet that now coated the apartment, her only companions being arguing housewives with diamonds around their necks on the television. While their voices turned more and more shrill despite the lack of emotion on their frozen faces, (Y/N) sunk deeper into the worn couch cushions. At least she wasn't thinking about this afternoon.

Twisting a still drying strand of hair around her finger, now an episode and a half deep in her reality binge, she began to feel a bit antsy. The too tight fabric of her shorts brushed against her thighs in clinging runs with each shuffle of her legs. The T.V. was no longer holding her attention, making it easy for her mind to wander.

While she planned on indulging in some natural stress relief in the form of eating everything in the kitchen and listening to her music too loud while avoiding the pile of laundry sitting in her room, would it be a bit too on the nose to relieve her stress physically?

She hadn't tuned into any of H's shows in the past week, much too busy with the physics exam to find the time, but she thinks she's earned it after this morning. Abandoning her station on the worn out cushion, (Y/N) practically ran to her room. She dug her laptop out from her school bag, opening up a private tab before typing in the URL with an embarrassing amount of familiarity. She didn't even think before she signed in and searched for H's page, fingers crossed that he was planning a stream tonight and she wouldn't have to make up some elaborate fantasy in his absence. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a new post on his page, finding a declaration colored in bubblegum pink that he would be going live five minutes from now.

Clicking the link to take her to the standby screen, she took the extra time to get comfortable in her room and put herself properly in the mood. Her hair was freshly washed and drying down her back in soft tumbles with her dewy skin moisturized and exfoliated. She deserved to be touched, she decided, even if it was by her own hand. Tugging off the now bothersome shorts that covered her bottom half, the anticipation of her plans caused her panties to cling to her core with drops of warmth weeping from her center.

Now pantless, she laid in the fluffs of her messy duvet now just a minute away from seeing the man of the hour (hopefully a little longer if (Y/N) had her way) pop up on her screen. Her toes curled in the duvet in anticipation as the time ticked a minute passed his promised screen time. Suddenly, despite the way the standby screen still sat in his place, his voice rang through the earbud she had dotted in her ear.

"Hello," he greeted them, the final syllable being strung out like a song, "How are—wait m'camera isn't on, is it? I swear, one day I'll get better at this." An airy laugh filtered through the tiny speakers in her ears, washing over her body. He'd barely even started and (Y/N) was already drawn in, willing to follow him wherever he took tonight's scene.

Finally, the retro-designed screen that held all his links and premium account information flickered out of sight only to be replaced by H himself. The usual frame of him from the neck down in the romantic lighting of his setup reeled (Y/N) in, her eyes dipping over the expanse of exposed skin he was giving them from the jump. A silky, cream colored button down hung off his shoulders, completely left open to show off the tan of his skin with the inky tattoos standing out starkly against the white shirt. A thin dusting of chest hair followed the line of his chest, the curls growing sparse towards his belly button only for his happy trail to take up the job of defining the line between his abdominal muscles. His nails were colored a fresh coat of mint green, remaining splotches decorating the cuticles making it clear this was a quick manicure before the show.

He looked like an angel, she decided, an angel shrouded in golden light that performed for his worshippers. She didn't have a problem with being his disciple, not when he looked like that.

"That's better," he smiled, the curl of his lips audible in the tone of voice, "Hello, for real this time. How was your day, love? How are you tonight?"

His chat flooded with comments, many focusing on the view of his body they were given so early into the stream. (Y/N) was sure he reveled in the praise, the shift in his usual programming causing extra heaps of affection and praise to be tossed his way; if she could see his face, she was sure a smug smile would be hooked into the corners of his mouth. Despite her more colorful counterparts sending an onslaught of adoring remarks disregarding his usual line of questioning, she still felt the urge to continue their tradition in hopes she would be noticed (it was practically foreplay for her, at this point).

sunflowerssweetheart: not super good but thats okay bc im here now !:) how was ur day ?

There was a pause as he lent closer to the screen, his cross necklace dangling from his neck to catch the light. She hoped he was looking for hers.

"Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, a buzzing sort of relief draping over her form at the sound of her pet name, "'M so sorry to hear that. Y'said you're feeling better now, though, right?"

Jittery fingers typed out her response, the keystrokes messy before she cleaned them up with the help of her backspace.

sunflowerssweetheart: yeah just tired and a little disappointed still but this is already making me feel not so bad:)

Clicking his tongue, (Y/N) could see his neck move as if H was shaking his head in reprimand at her. The thought caused a shiver to run down her spine.

"We can't have y'feeling 'not so bad', sweetheart. I like to make y'feel good, you know that."

Her breath caught as his deep voice wrapped around her pet name, a faux scolding tone tinting the words. He wanted to make her feel good—her, personally. Were shows like this supposed to feel so intimate?

"What would make y'feel good, sweetheart? 'M listening," he prompted her, his tongue lazing around the drawl of his words.

(Y/N) readied herself to type back an answer just before she saw him shift in his seat. The creamy button up she wished was her own was slowly being shrugged from his shoulders, unveiling the full of his inked arm and the bare one that boasted a light sheen as accentuated by the candle-like glow of his setup. Her eyes followed him as the top was dropped to the floor, H standing a second later to show the top of his fitted brown trousers. The star of the show was the elastic waist of his boxers that peeked out from the top of his pants, the brandname stitched across the band. The expanse of his hands dropped to the button of his pants, framed by the laurels etched into his hips like arrows directing her vision.

Swallowing thickly, she typed out her simple response, hoping he would still catch it though the chatroom was flying past without a lag time.

sunflowersweetheart: just need u daddy

"Oh," he breathed, the sound being drawn out in a lusty pull, "So, daddy'll make y'feel better? I see." His hand on his fly dragged down the top hem of his pants, opening the waistline to put the bulge in his white boxers on display. "I need y'to listen really carefully for me, then, so daddy can make y'feel good. Follow me, okay, sweetheart?"

Follow him, she did. Her eyes were pinned to the motion of his hands. He disrupted the frame that the open fly of his pants created round his covered cock, pushing them down low on his legs to leave only his boxers as the final barrier he was teasing her with. The thin fabric of the underwear left little to the imagination, showing the stiff curve in his shaft and the girthy head that leaked a pearl of precum into the fabric.

"Ready for me?"

She wished he could see just how desperately she nodded her head, how her breathing stuttered only to quicken a moment later.

The rumbles in the chatroom seemed to be enough encouragement for him, a smug laugh being let out off screen before he reached his broad hand under the waist of his underwear. The outline of his knuckles grabbing his shaft could be seen clearly through the tight fit while his other hand tugged down his boxers in a quick pull.

"'M already s'hard for you, darling, see?" he crooned with his hand fisted around the base of his dick, "Fucking hurts, almost."

The dark thatch of trimmed hair that bordered his cock stood out starkly against the white boxers, framing his hand as he made a torturously slow pass over the shaft. His prick jumped in his hand as he reached the head, a choked moan being sucked from H's chest when a drip of precum seeped from his slit. The vein vined around the underside seemed to throb under the attention.

"You know how much I'd stretch y'out, sweetheart? All the way in your tummy, right, baby?"

His own words seemed to spur him on, causing him to drag the full of his hand over his shaft in rough pulls. His green painted thumb swiped over his tip every time he reached, dragging the pearly fluid down the rest of his prick. Slick noises sounded with each stroke of his hand only to be interrupted by the sound of H's moans and breathless noises. Since he was still standing, he shifted his stance to lead with his slim hip facing the camera with his cock out in front of him.

(Y/N)'s own fingers teased the waist of her panties, dipping beneath the elastic. A layer of goosebumps rose in her wake, skimming over the soft skin between her thighs. Her folds were already slick from the words that were echoing through her headphones with her gaze pinned on H's movements.

"I'd make y'feel so much better sweetheart, make y'forget all about today," he groaned, slowing his strokes to tight tugs around his shaft, "You'd only have to think about daddy and how hard 'm fucking you."

A breathless moan was taken from (Y/N)'s throat, dropping her mouth into an open gape. Her breathing stuttered, her lower tummy jumping under the palm of her hand. She pictured him above her, lining his cock along the curve of her tummy to show just how far inside he would reach, a visual that caused her hole to clench around nothing. God, she was happy Ny was out.

She hadn't even realized her eyes had fluttered shut until she heard H's voice ring out in a heady groan, his hand stroking faster and harder along the stiffness of his cock. He had moved to sit comfortably in the office chair fixed in front of the camera, giving a full view of each of his ministrations. The large of his free hand expanded over his bare thigh, fingers denting into the ink of his tiger tattoo as the tight ring of his fingers worked over his length. The dim light that illuminated his setup worked into a romantic glow that glinted off of his tanned skin, each of his movements and the flexing of his muscles being highlighted.

"Oh, fuck me, sweetheart," he groaned, his hand visibly tightening as he reached the head of his cock, "Tell daddy how good y'feel."

Slipping her fingers inside her clenching hole, (Y/N) tried to emulate the passes of his hand over his prick. She wanted to fake the intimacy, weave her story as if he really were fucking her like he promised. The chat below his stream was going crazy, running too fast for her hooded gaze to catch (not that she wanted to look away from H, anyway). Still, she knew he was expecting a response from her if the use of sweetheart was anything to go by.

sunflowerssweetheart: feel s good daddy my fingers arent you but im trying:(

"Oh I know, sweetheart," he cooed a softly mocking tone, legs widening as he quickened his pace, "Your fingers can't replace m'cock, but y'still feel good, right? That's all I want. Daddy feels s'good thinking about you, sweetheart."

A thicker stream of his precum seeped from his slit, dripping over his length and his fingers nestled under the head. With her fingers tucked inside and her palm smeared over her clit, (Y/N) felt like she couldn't breathe at the sight. The fact he was doing this based off the kind of day she had, all of his dirty talk littered with the name he had picked just for her, was bringing her closer to the edge than she thought possible so quickly.

"Daddy," she moaned, voice breathy and pitched as she sunk into her sheets. Her skin was flush from the humid air that seemed to settle over her body, with her fingers soaked to the knuckle inside of her. This was so much better than going out.

"Gonna cum with me?" he breathed, H's voice filtered through her earbuds in lazy pulls, "Gonna cum with your pretty fingers stuffed inside? Cum for daddy, sweetheart."

Her hold clenched around her pumping fingers, his words echoing in her head while her eyes couldn't be torn from his stroking hand.

sunflowerssweetheart: yes yes yes i want you to cum with me daddy please pl ease

"You're so cute, sweetheart," his hips bucked roughly into his hand, thighs and stomach tensed under his tanned, sweaty skin, "You're gonna wait for daddy, then?" H sunk deeply into his chair, everything just under his chin now in frame, though his heaving chest and stroking hand was what kept her attention. He fucked up into his hand every few strokes with his fist tight around his length and his palm spanning over the thick of his thigh. "You'd let me cum inside, right, sweetheart? Fill y'up and let it leak out."

sunflowerssweetheart: i would daddy i would i want that so bad please

His throat bobbed, his cross necklace shining in the thin smattering of curls in the middle of his chest. He focused his attention on the tip of his prick, swiping his thumb headily over his slit as he cupped the sensitive nerve endings. "Fuck—'M gonna cum soon. Cum with daddy, sweetheart, cum with me."

Her hand in her panties worked in rapid motion; her palm was pressed deeply against her clit with her fingers buried in her weeping hole. (Y/N) tried her best to keep her eyes open, her attention fixed on H as he performed the last act of his show, but the second the first spurt of his cum pumped from his cock, her vision dimmed. She came with him as she moaned into her empty bedroom, his voice echoing into her ears. Her head was thrown back into her pillows, neck bared with her back arched. Her hips raised to meet her hand even harder, fucking up into the vision of H pumping into her she had in her mind.

Forcing herself to crack open her eyes, she saw her performer still pumping his cock with his bare chest now covered in a different pearly sheen than he had started the stream with. Aftershocks wracked through her body as her fingers stroked the soft spot within herself, unable to hold back as she looked at him. Her voice was left in tatters as only breathy moans and deep inhales sounded through her throat.

In tandem, she was able to regain full consciousness as H came down himself. Though his limbs were shaky, chest shining from the remnants of his release, he still cleaned himself up. (Y/N) pulled her hand from her panties, listening intently for the outro that would work as her aftercare for the evening.

With his cock now tucked back into his white boxers, H righted himself in his chair. His chest was still a flushed pink, heaving under his deep breaths as he started his goodbyes. "I adore y'so much, sweetheart. Thank y'for spending your night with me. I'll be back soon, wait for me."

He lingered for a moment, the chat yearning for a second performance before the stream blacked out. The tip meter emptied along with the thread, leaving (Y/N) in a crumpled mess in the puffs of her disastrous sheets around her. Blinking up at the ceiling, she tried to catch her breath.

She probably needed to do some laundry after this.

Her body lagged after her decision, allowing her a moment longer to lay in bed before she shucked her soaked underwear from her legs. Though she moved slowly, she was definitely relaxed; thoughts of this morning had all but disappeared over the last hour. Even the thought of doing laundry didn't bother her, muscles relaxed and mind working through a pleasant haze that left her in too good of a mood to be dampened.

As she collected her sheets with the shorts and underwear she had abandoned, a notification dinged from (Y/N)'s laptop. She opted to ignore it for a moment, figuring she would check her phone for the text message after she had the washer started. But, the notification never transferred onto her phone like usual.

With the washing machine rumbling from down the hall, (Y/N) plucked up her half closed laptop. Her eyes widened when she realized where the notification had come from.

It was the cam-site.

Sure, she'd received impersonal messages before from chat bots promoting sales on premium content or new creators that were apparently a big deal, but those were few and far between. Especially after she refused the dozens of popups asking if she wanted to add her credit card information for more 'arousing' content. This was different.

Opening up her inbox, she found it was a message from H, the notification entitled One (1) Unread Message from TreatPeopleWKisses!

This was nothing more than another automated message, right? Maybe he had sent out another promotion for one-on-one sessions this weekend.

Double clicking on the link, the page opened up to a new thread she never dreamed of making.

treatpeoplewkisses: hi! im sorry to hear you had a bad day. i hope i was able to make you feel a little bit better!:)

(Y/N) didn't know what to say back. This was not something she ever thought she'd deal with, no matter how often her lusty thoughts had urged her to message him out of desperation. How was she supposed to respond to him, especially after the stream they had just experienced together?

sunflowerssweetheart: you really did actually!! thank u for acknowledging all of my comments and everything:) good show!

She immediately cringed after she pressed send, rethinking each word as she reread it. How was she able to come off so stiff and uncomfortable considering the things she's already said to him in front of other viewers with such ease?

treatpeoplewkisses: of course! let me know if you ever need anything:) can't have my sweetheart feeling sad

Though she had already kind of collected that she was his sweetheart, this confirmation made her heart beat faster and her eyes widen. With shaky fingers, she keyed back a quick response before this went any further.

sunflowerssweetheart: thank u h:) can i ask about one on one pricing then??

treatpeoplewkisses: don't worry about any of that, sweetheart. this is just for us, so its on me:)

Maybe, she wouldn't have to wish to meet him anymore, not if this kept up.

—————

(Y/N) had been dreading the following Wednesday since the day she bombed her test. She knew Stanfill was going to be releasing grades by then and she didn't want to know just how lowly she'd scored. Even just hearkening back to last Friday's session gave her a spike in anxiety. Ny had been the best distraction she could have asked for since she confessed how poorly she felt about the exam, the entire weekend then filled with activities designed to distract. Even when Monday rolled around, her roommate did her best to divert (Y/N)'s attention with her own problems she was having with the meddling she was doing in the love life of one of the baristas at Caffeine Dreams. (He didn't ask for help, (Y/N) knew that, but Ny couldn't help but scheme even if the plots rarely worked in her favor). But, Wednesday nights were now reserved for Naomi's study group, leaving (Y/N) alone when the notification from her student portal came through

It took her another ten minute before she grew the courage to open the app, (Y/N) too busy wallowing in her anxiety to take the plunge right away. When she finally flicked open the notification and let her eyes dart across the numbers depicted as her grade, she couldn't even fully compute her official standing but she knew the red hue was not a good sign. She didn't want to sound dramatic, but in all honesty, she was devastated. She had such high hopes for this exam, never having felt so prepared in a subject she struggled so heavily with. The low score only served to taunt her, tainting the somewhat pleasant day she'd had. Maybe she wasn't as smart as she thought she was.

(Y/N) had only gotten a full five minutes of wallowing in before another notification shook the phone in her palm. It was a text. From Harry. Because of course it was.

Harry S.

Stanfill just posted results for the exam! How did you do?!

She knew it was never Harry's intention to embarrass her or make her feel inferior in any sense of the word, but she didn't feel anything but stupid as she read over his message. Part of her wanted to keep up the act she had started when he texted her after the test last Friday; that she had done as well as she expected and could avoid confessing just how much of a failure she was again. She didn't know if she was up to telling him how easily she had wasted his time, the study sessions doing nothing to make the connections she needed.

But, the rest of her knew that Harry would never make her feel less than—he'd probably try to see the bright side in it, more than anything. She could picture him messaging back, telling her that sure, maybe she did fail but at least it wasn't a zero! She figured she could use a little of that blind optimism.

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment before dissolving to tell Harry the truth.

i bombed:(

The bright blue bubble stood out starkly against the plain black background of her messages, only to be joined a second later with the three grey dots appearing in the bottom corner.

Harry S.

Really?

(Y/N) didn't offer any kind of response other than a cropped screenshot of her grade, displaying the red numbers for him to clearly see. This time the dots returned only to react like a glitch as they disappeared and reappeared every few seconds. He seemed to finally decide on what to say as a short message was sent through.

Harry S.

I'm so sorry (Y/N) I thought we had gone over everything you needed last week. I'm so so sorry

While she had guessed he would offer a heaping dose of healthy positivity, she figured this was a bit more fitting. In true Harry fashion, he was taking credit for her failure. She knew that if she had passed and thanked him for his help, he would have easily deflected and given her all the praise. Because he was sweet like that. That was the only thing that had managed to cause a smile to break her features since learning her fate.

its not ur fault at all dont apologize!! i just didn't know any of it and that's not ur fault

Harry S.

Are you going to talk to Stanfill about a retake?

(Y/N) almost shuddered at the thought of going through those ninety minutes again. Harry wouldn't be there for even ten minutes this time, properly leaving her to the wolves. She didn't know if she could do it. Anyway, who's to say she would do any better a second time; maybe the questions would be switched up or reworded, but she doubted they'd be any less confusing.

i probably should but idk if it'll do any good tbh

Harry S.

We could study some more! Go over everything that was on the test or that you wanted more help on!

When (Y/N) didn't respond right away, another text came through.

Please. I want to make this right

He didn't have to make anything right, as he did nothing wrong to begin with, but (Y/N) couldn't turn him down. She not only needed the help, but it was a bit too easy to picture Harry with his brow cinched and lip bitten in guilt. No matter if she told him it was none of his fault, she knew he wouldn't believe it in his sensitive heart.

do u want to meet up at the library tonight then???

Harry S.

Yes! I just got out of class if youre free?

(Y/N) peeked at the time on the top corner of her phone. She had nothing to do for the rest of the night considering Ny wouldn't be home and she didn't have the energy to do anything but nap away her problems. The thought of seeing Harry in his cozy sweaters with the soft green of his eyes looking at her with a lack of frustration she would have expected from someone as smart as him to be teaching someone like her, made her insides warm. If he was willing to help, she shouldn't turn him down.

yeah ill be there in 20 min ! thank u harry

She really hoped he understood how much she really meant that declaration of gratitude. Even if he didn't, she'd get a chance to tell him in person soon. She only hoped she could get it out before she cried in humiliation when she remembered how bad her grade was.

Harry S.

I'll go save our table then!! Thank YOU:) drive safe

Of course, he said thank you. Because he was cute.

—————

Now that she knew where she was going, (Y/N) found what she was now considering their table in the back of the second floor of the library with ease. Harry sat there with a searching expression twisting his features, a warm cup of hot chocolate on the table in lieu of his usual study materials. His hair was mussed with his glasses thrown messily on the top of his head to hold back the curls as he scanned his worried gaze across the stacks. The second he caught sight of her, his bitten lips downturned into a sympathetic frown.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said as soon as she reached their table, letting her own thoughts spill now that she wasn't sitting alone in her apartment, "I'm sorry, I wasted your time. I thought I knew everything I needed. And, I'm sorry for making you come out here again." She swallowed around the tightness that was developing in her throat.

A heavy crewneck was draped over Harry's form, the toes of his white Vans peeking out from the flared denim on his legs as he looked up at her with worry lines marring his forehead. He shook his head, disrupting the curls that swirled over his forehead and almost knocked his glasses off, "Don't be sorry. Don't have to be sorry for anything; y'didn't waste m'time, and you're not making me be here at all. We'll jus' try harder this time and go over anything you can remember that tripped you up on the exam, don't worry."

Dropping her bag, it laid dead at her feet with a few of her books toppling out as (Y/N) fell into her seat with the same heaviness dragging her down. She all but curled into herself where she sat, shoulders falling as her hands came to cradle her flushed face. (Y/N) rubbed at her scrunched eyes with none-too-gentle fingers, already sensing the burn that was building behind them, "I'm so dumb."

Her whispered words drew Harry closer, his form just visible from the corner of her shrouded vision. She couldn't look at him directly when she knew he would have that puppy-sweet sympathetic look on his face. "You're not dumb, (Y/N). This kind of stuff is hard, you know that."

"Then why are you able to understand it so well, and I can barely grasp the basics?"

She didn't mean to be so argumentative when he was only trying to help her and console the threat of tears behind her eyes, but this whole situation was a little too embarrassing for her to be pleasant. Nonetheless, her cloudy mood didn't deter Harry at all from his mission of reassurance.

"Because I've spent way too much time with this subject, (Y/N). It's easy to understand when it's all you do," he said, a soft smile evident in his quiet tone.

Peeking at him through the cracks in her fingers, she found Harry with a boyish curl on his lips and soft eyes that pleaded with her to believe him. If someone like him couldn't even get her to retain some of the most basic information on this subject, she didn't know where she was supposed to go from here.

Taking her hands from her face, she let the full of her emotions be told from her face. "I just feel so stupid and embarrassed. I thought I was going to do so good, and I couldn't even finish the test, Harry. The last two pages were blank because the multiple choice tripped me up so bad—and that's supposed to be the easy part!" Before she could help herself, a sheen of tears lacquered over her eyes and warped the edges of her vision.

(Y/N) shook her head in an effort to somehow put off her tears, the tips of her fingers coming to rest under her eyes in an attempt to catch the drops that threatened to fall. Beside her, Harry deflated in his spot.

"Don't be embarrassed, (Y/N), you're not stupid. You've got nothing to be embarrassed about, really," he cooed, reaching for her before hesitating. He worried his eyes over her form, the first line of tears escaping down her cheek catching his attention before he bit his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I..."—he paused with a swallow, his shaky hand reaching cautiously towards the line of her shoulders—"Can I hug you?"

She didn't even hesitate before (Y/N) nodded her head, wishing for his worried look to dissipate. Very carefully, Harry carefully draped his arm over her shoulders, scooting himself to the very edge of his chair to be as close to her as he could manage. His movements were unsure and slow, hesitation clear on his features as if he wasn't sure he was touching her right. (Y/N) barely heeded his caution, readily welcoming him and the warmth of his body. She twisted to face him with the full of her form. Her knees knocked against his own in her rush to accept his affection. Harry didn't back off an inch as she jostled him, not even when she melted into him in a mess of limbs. Her arms wrapped around his middle with her cheek laid on his shoulder. Harry stiffened for just a second before he laid his arms fully around her, hugging her just like he promised.

The cover of the bookshelves around them made the moment that much more intimate, cloaked in their private corner. (Y/N)'s tears were fleeting though the comfort she drew from Harry wasn't something she was willing to let go of, especially not when she felt the soft of his cheek pillowed on the top of her head.

"'S gonna be okay, (Y/N), I promise. You're not dumb, and you've got no reason to be embarrassed about that exam. We're going to work on this, and figure out what tripped you up so y'can be ready. This retake is going to be easy, I promise." His hands on her back worked up a hesitant rhythm, running in careful strokes over the planes of her form.

"As easy as it was for you?" she sniffled.

"Easier." The smile in his tone was clear despite the volume being nothing but a whisper. "We'll take all the time y'need to feel ready; jus' tell me when and I'll be there. I don't mind helping you; there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

It was easy to believe him when he held her like this.

—————

"Hey, where were you?"

The sight of Naomi balled up in her preferred recliner with a dinner of pizza bagels greeted (Y/N) as she locked the apartment door behind her. The blonde shag of Ny's hair was scooped into a clumsy bun on the top of her head, eyes wide with relief now that her friend was home. She watched after her as (Y/N) practically floated to her room with her school bag in tow like an afterthought.

Kicking off her shoes in her room, (Y/N) shouted through the open door, "I was at the library with Harry."

A smile perked itself on her lips at the sound of his name. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the ghost of his arms around her and the soft of his cheek squished on the top of her head. He had been unbelievably gentle with her the whole afternoon, making it hard to say goodbye to him after he walked her to her car. The best part about it all was that he never once belittled her or made her feel silly after she recovered from her breakdown; he didn't look at her with a precious glaze over his eyes, or dance around when she grew frustrated. He was the best (and cuddliest) study buddy she could have asked for.

"Was your grade as bad as you were scared it was, then?" Ny called, breaking her from the memories of Harry's phantom hold.

"It was," (Y/N) confirmed, eyes dropping to her bag where it lay on the floor with the heavily highlighted notes Harry lent her to study in her extra time. A smile cracked at her features as she thought about the way he offered them to her with a shy curl of his lips. "So, he's helping me study for the retake."

She emerged from her room free of her school materials though the smile on her face remained with thoughts of her tutor. When Ny hadn't responded by the time (Y/N) took her usual spot on the worn corner cushion of their couch, she chanced a look in her direction. The blue of Ny's eyes were squinted at her with a smile fighting at the corners of her lips.

"What's got you all smiley, then?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) deflected with a shrug, "I'm just relaxed, finally, that's all."

The housewives on their television that were gearing up to fight over an expensive dinner weren't enough to distract her roommate when she looked at her with sparks in her eyes. "You like him, don't you!"

"I don't know, maybe," (Y/N) countered, not even bothering trying to hide her smile anymore. She tucked her hands into her lap, fingers playing a lovestruck game as she spoke, "We've only really talked about class and stuff, but, Ny, he's so cute. He's always wearing these soft sweaters, and he's so smart and so nice. Today, I kind of had a breakdown when I got to the library about my grade, and you know how some people who are that smart can be really condescending? Harry's not like that at all. He's really kind and was so gentle with me today, and he's just... nice to be around, I don't know how to say it. I don't really think I'm much his type, but I really like spending time with him."

The whole time Ny listened with a bright smile on her face, nibbling at her pizza bagel like it were popcorn at the movies. But, when (Y/N) confessed her assumption about what Harry's type may be, the grin dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged, already familiar with the idea that even if she liked Harry, there was a high chance he wouldn't feel the same. "I doubt I'm his first candidate considering he had to teach me the same stuff twice. I don't think I'd be a very entertaining date for someone like him."

"As if he cares! When did you meet up at the library with him anyway?"

"Around one, I think. Why?" (Y/N)'s brows cinched to meet in the middle at the hard detour Ny made in conversation.

"(Y/N), I'm pretty sure he left in the middle of his class to meet up with you," she started, her dinner abandoned on the paper plate on her lap, "He almost knocked me over when he came out of Cleary's room right when you texted me that you wouldn't be home for a while. I think he was going to meet you."

"No, he told me that he had just been dismissed from class," (Y/N) countered, not wanting to cling too hard to the hope Naomi was braiding together.

"Nope, Kylee's in that lecture and she doesn't get out until 2:15. I saw him pretty much sprinting to the library right when it sounds like you were meeting him," Ny stated pointedly, "I think he dropped everything to see you. So, to me at least, that means you have a good chance of being his 'type'."

(Y/N) allowed herself to steep in the idea that he may have the same eagerness to be around her as she did him. She couldn't wait for the next study session, she decided. Maybe she'd have to stop complaining about H being the closest thing she had to a boyfriend.

—————

momentum is the motivation an object has towards its intended target

a...lot happened in this one GHSIHFSUH this is the longest part in the whole piece I think so thank u for taking the time! please please lmk what you think of the series so far! thank u smsmsmms for reading and sorry for any mistakes! lmk if u have any predictions or ideas about the rest of the piece or anything else !

Until The End of Time

prompt: how long can she wait on harry to make a move? or are they always going to be stuck in this limbo.

warning: abo (if it’s not your thing don’t read; if you don’t know what it is - research before reading); possessive behavior, mention of blood, smut, minor dni

Authors note: for the finale of this week, a new trope officially. wolfrry! i worked extremely hard on this fic and while i was writing it -i hated it!!!! but after proofreading, it may be one of my favorite pieces i have ever written. thank you for the past year of support and how much we’ve grown together on this blog. all my love always. isla x

if you enjoyed - please reblog, share, like, recommend, comment, & come talk to me about it.

🌮 Happy Day 7 of One Year of Erodasfishtacos 🐠

catch up on the others:

day one 🐟

day two 🍹

day three 🏝

day four 🌺

day five ☀️

day six 🌊

Anne and Carla knew there was something unique about their children - instantly when they met.

It was like there was an invisible string that had been knitted around the toddler’s waists and tied to one another.

They gravitated towards each other since the first time they had crossed paths at the park when they were just around three years old.

They sought out each other to play with, sitting for hours in the sandbox together, searching for flowers in the little meadow, or chasing each other around.

Then it was guaranteed tears when it was time to go home, whereas YN would quietly whine, Harry would puff up and emit a squeaky growl to try to intimidate his mother.

YN wasn’t a weak omega, not even from the start, rarely did Harry’s baby alpha voice or threatening rumbles shake her up.

Harry was always temperamental. He had a close group of friends which later developed in his pack but he didn’t care much for random interaction.

He cared about YN. It was an innate need to protect her and make sure she was safe and happy. He didn’t listen to anyone on the matter.

Girls throughout their school careers crushed and lusted after the alpha. He was by far, the most wanted alpha on campus by betas and omegas a like.

Alpha’s hated Harry.

He never backed down to another alpha, he was a true leader - through and through - and everyone knew that he would replace his father one day.

The Styles protected a large expanse of the state, including all of the territories surrounding their homeland despite the wars that they have waged that included copious amounts of bloodshed and loss.

The Styles’ Pack has had dominance for hundreds and hundreds of years. Never once have they been able to be overthrown by another pack.

The Styles wolves were the strongest, biggest, and toughest purebreds - possibly in the world and rarely any group tried their luck.

It wasn’t a surprise that Harry was always looked at as the one omegas and betas should strive for.

Parents would ask their children over dinner, “Did you try to get to know that Styles’ boy? He’d be a wonderful alpha to bond with.”

All the answers were the same though, Harry would either blatantly ignore their existence or straight up turn them away with even looking at them.

It had all started back in the park one day.

-

YN was newly four and toddling around to look at everything at the playground - always inquisitive and curious, sometimes more than what was good for herself.

She didn’t gravitate towards the other children, quite frankly - there was a curly haired baby alpha that was bossing them all around anyways.

Her mother was deep in a romance novel on the park bench, knowing her daughter would keep out of trouble.

When YN spots a speckled, prickly caterpillar on a tree stump - her immediate reaction is to pick up the small creature, unaware of its venomous nature.

Out of nowhere, that same bossy alpha child with chocolate curls and intense green eyes smacks her hand away from the insect.

“That’s bad!” He scolds with a low, squeaky rumbling in his chest as he puffs it up as big as he can to show he means business, “Bad omega.”

YN turns back with a furrowed brow, teetering on tears as the boy attempts to grab her arm to pull her away from the caterpillar.

“C’mon,” He demands with as much firmness in his voice as he can muster at his age.

“No!” YN yells back, even at this young age, she wasn’t going to be controlled by some alpha that she doesn’t know.

Carla, YN’s mother, steps over to see what’s going on and sees her daughter’s wide, wet eyes .

She goes to pick YN up and is surprised when the boy growls at her before hissing, “Mine!”

Another dark haired woman is running up, scooping up the boy with embarrassed, pink-tinged cheeks as she apologizes profusely.

“I’m so sorry, he’s never done that before,” The woman tells Carla as she gives her son’s ear a pinch and he yelps like an injured pup.

YN tugs at her mother’s shirt until she’s hiked up onto her hip, glaring at the alpha with anger.

“Harry Edward Styles, apologize,” The woman chastises her son who’s still standing defensively and not breaking eye contact with YN.

Carla was going to give this woman an earful about teaching alpha’s to not be chaunventic pigs when she replays the name.

Harry Edward Styles.

The color drains from her face as she realizes that the boy is not just a normal child but the heir and next in line of the styles pack.

And that meant that woman with a firm grip on the boy was Anne Styles - The Anne Styles, the matriarch of the pack.

“I-it’s o-okay,” Carla stutters out, aware that she is conversing with near royalty right here at this little park a few streets down from her house, “H-have a g-good day.”

And that, she turns and quickly carries her daughter away from them, not wanting any trouble but Carla is nearly positive she heard Harry grumble after her daughter.

-

It’s mere days later when YN is dropped off in her first kindergarten class, sitting near other omegas that she got along with well.

That same alpha boy from the park is walked in by his mother. Unlike the other children who looked around with fright and had hesitation to step foot into the classroom - he didn’t have that.

Harry took confident strides instead, his shoulders as broad as he could make them appear and making sure his back was ramrod straight.

It was definitely a mixture of something that was innate to his gender but it was also obvious that arrogance and stance had most likely been instilled by his father.

He marches past the impatient beta boys waiting for his arrival, arriving right in front of YN, “You are the bad omega.”

And what ensues next has Anne and Carla called back to retrieve their children, YN lunges at the boy and tackles him to the ground.

And then their friendship developed from there.

-

Everyone knew they were destined to be bonded, there is a term called predetermined bond which is when an alpha and omega are solely meant for each other - it is physically impossible for them to try to soul bond with anyone else.

Predetermined soulmates were extremely rare but everyone in their packs and community had a hunch that they were.

Since kindergarten, the two had been attached at the hip - never went a day without talking or seeing each other.

People would have normally made fun of them but nobody dared to tease the Styles' Alpha and in turn, that protected YN from torment.

Anne and Carla knew earlier on, there had been a day where YN had shown up at school - ill with a stomach bug.

Harry had come home and demanded that his mother take him to YN’s house to see her.

Anne suggests just calling to check in but Harry had an absolute meltdown like he’d never had before - only calming once they were in the car on their way.

However, it was shocking to nearly everyone that high school had come and gone but they still weren’t dating yet.

By the time they were in their mid-twenties, they hadn’t dated, let along mated and soul bonded yet to everyone's surprise.

They were still absolutely fused at the hip, Harry acted as YN’s alpha and did everything for her a mate would do but they never had titles.

Harry had never allowed himself to kiss her even because he knew that once he tasted her, he would mate her - instinct and all.

The reason they had not made progress was fear, both were too afraid to make the further step - not wanting to risk their friendship.

Despite how obvious it was to literally everyone else on the earth how much they were meant to be - they were the two most oblivious people on the earth.

Harry knew that he wanted YN as his soulbond, he’d been in love with her for as long as he’s known but he couldn’t risk losing her if she didn’t feel the same way.

Instead, he pushed it down and dated other people, sometimes omegas but mostly betas - not one omega has he met that even came close in comparison to the gorgeous, honey-sweet omega he really wanted.

Relationships never worked out for either of them. It was toxic in a way, they didn’t want to admit they wanted each other but they didn’t want the other to have anyone else.

Neither of their partners ever appreciated how close they were, always breaking up with a suspicion that they had been cheated on.

YN had been dating Peter for a short while, she was feeling pressured into settling down, bonding, and began having children.

Peter was fine, he seemed to be loyal, a good provider, what omegas should look for in an alpha but YN didn’t feel that bond deep in her bones.

He didn’t hold the same power that Harry did and she hates to compare them but they’re just not the same in their secondary gender.

If an obnoxious alpha comes on YN in a bar with Peter, he nicely asks the man to back off or even leaves YN to deal with it.

If YN is with Harry and someone comes onto her, he’s off his stool, broadening his shoulders, and flashing his sharp canines while emitting a warning growl from the depth of his chest.

It’s over-the-top, makes the male run off with his tail between his legs, and then Harry will just turn around with a possessive grin on his face before he rubs his nose against her jaw to scent her.

“You’re ridiculous,” YN giggles, fingers weaving into his long locks and scratching at his scalp until he grumbles happily like a puppy.

Harry doesn’t think twice before protecting YN, he nearly unconsciously steps in front of her and does anything to make her life easier.

-

YN was dreading introducing Harry to Peter - it was never a good time when either of them tried to introduce a new significant other.

YN pushes the reason why to the back of her head but she knows in her heart - they are each other’s soulbond but they’re so protective of their friendship they’d never want to risk it.

YN refused to take the first step.

It was just a casual get together at a pub, with Harry’s pack but also YN’s friends as well, on a Friday night in the city.

As soon as Peter and YN arrive at the table, Harry’s eyes narrow in on where his arm is wrapped around her waist and he grits his teeth together to stop from making a remark.

“Harry, this is Peter,” YN clears her throat nervously as her boyfriend sticks out his bare hand to shake her best friend’s ringed, tattooed one.

“A pleasure,” The alpha responded curtly, he squeezed Peter’s hand so hard that the man pulled it back with a wince and a yelp, “Sorry mate, don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

The most obvious assertion of dominance, Harry need Peter to know that he’s in charge of this situation.

“Harry,” YN scolds sharply, getting even more frustrated when he just raised his eyebrow at her with a shit-eating grin like he’s all innocent.

“S’fine,” Peter mumbles embarrassed, having an alpha just claim dominance over him - one of the most humiliating public displays, Harry took pleasure in doing so.

It’s only been thirty minutes until YN can no longer take Harry’s backhanded remarks, blunt questions, and overall pompous demeanor towards the poor weaker alpha.

“Harry, now,” YN interrupts the conversation as he makes Peter uncomfortable for the upteenth time and leaves her barstool without another glance back at the men.

She manages to get to the fire escape entrance to the side alleyway of the brick building before Harry catches up with her.

It's a freezing, warm breath turning into a visible smog as YN wraps her bare arms around herself to keep in some of the warmth.

“Here,” Harry rasps automatically, shimmying off his wool coat to let YN shimmy into but she instead glares at him and refuses to uncross her arms.

“No.”

Harry snarls at her, “It wasn’t a question, mutt.”

He physically unwraps her arms and roughly gets the coat on her body because he wasn’t going to let her go cold even if she wanted to prove a point.

Harry can’t help himself, rarely can, because she has her boyfriend inside the bar but Harry’s nuzzling at her jaw and laying his scent on her.

“I’m gonna smack you,” YN warns with a grunt as she pushes Harry back, she really wanted to keep him there, let him nuzzle and claim her but she knew she couldn’t - it felt painful to push him back.

Harry’s eyes are still narrowed as he watching YN, he’s not happy about being denied physical touch - was always unhappy about it.

“Why’d you call me out here, pup?” Harry drawls, he kicks at the gravel underneath his leather boots as the cold wind blows his hair.

He doesn’t get cold, it’s the wolf in him, that this intense biting weather doesn’t even make him shiver at all.

“You need to stop,” YN huffs out, shoving her hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, trying not get overwhelmed by his scent - sandalwood and cinnamon, “Leave ‘em alone.”

Harry’s upper lip snarls again at the request, he hated being told what to do, especially when it came to his natural instinct.

“You’re not going to tell me how to protect you,” Harry growls defiantly, the timbre of his voice growing in volume as he gets upset.

“You’re going to ruin this for me,” YN points out, getting louder herself because he just doesn’t listen - so fucking stubborn.

“Good,” He hissed out, he was radiating power and confidence - it was pissing her off because he could act like this but never take the next step.

“You’re being an ass,” She seethes furiously, she pokes her finger at his hard chest, “Leave Peter alone. Do you hear me?”

“Mm, you look gorgeous tonight,” The alpha nearly purrs, a total distraction to try to get him out of trouble - she can tell he wants to reach out and tug her closer.

“I fucking can’t with you tonight,” YN groans in exasperation as she shrugs off his jacket and throws it back at him before storming back inside the bar.

When she arrives back at the table, everyone looks up at them, including Peter who has a confused smile on his face until YN states, “We’re leaving, let’s go.”

Peter complies without question, saying quiet farewells to the pack before hopping off his barstool and slipping on his jacket - handing YN hers.

Harry appears again, displeased with the sight in front of him as he watches Peter zip up YN’s jacket, when they’re about to leave the table - Harry grabs her wrist in a possessive squeeze and low growl only she could hear.

He can feel how quick her pulse is, how her body aches to nestle against his, and let herself be his but she only allows it for a moment before she’s pulling away.

Once they disappear from the busy bar, Harry slumps back down onto his stool, and swigs down the beer in front of him much too quickly.

“Alpha, you know what you need to do,” Niall speaks up, eyeing his leader warily, “She is waiting for you to take the next step. Why make this go on any longer?”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Harry demands, his voice loud and deep enough to quiet down the busy bar, “You’re my beta. Know your fucking place in this pack before I show you.”

Niall lowers his head submissively to show his apology, eyes glued to the wood table in front, and baring the back of his neck as a sign of vulnerability and trust to his leader.

It doesn’t ease the tension, Harry is storming out of the bar before Niall can even look up, just catching his back through the front door.

-

It’s been about three month of YN and Peter’s relationship and Harry is getting absolutely fed up with it.

Everyone notices he’s been more possessive than usual, wanting to be next to her at all times, scenting her when no one is looking, intimidating her boyfriend at every chance he gets.

It’s pack game night, where they all sit around, drink beer, and play games until they either pass out from the booze or exhaustion.

Harry’s been in a sour mood since they’ve started dating and everyone has felt it - he was uptight, angry like he gets anytime she’s in a relationship.

YN gets up after a round of Phase Ten to use the bathroom, Harry sits back in his chair at the head of the table - arms crossed, muscles flexed, and inked in dark tribal designs that run from his fingertips to his neck.

“How’s everything going with you two?” Chelsea asks Peter as she sips at alcoholic seltzer, just trying to make conversation.

“Excellent. I, well, I know it’s only been a few months but I’m really considering asking YN if she’ll bond with me,” He replies a bit sheepishly, eyes darting around the table to gauge reactions.

“Over my dead fucking body,” Harry roars, kicking back his chair, and slamming his fist on the table, “How fucking dare you even speak like that.”

Peter, who is normally quiet and non-confrontational, honestly tries to avoid Harry like the plague despite he’s everywhere YN is.

“I don’t need your permission. She doesn’t belong to your pack, you're not her alpha,” Peter responds tersely, pushing his chair back as well as he keeps direct eye contact with the leader - struggling not to submit to the leader.

That comment shot straight down onto Harry’s spine, sending fireworks of rage exploding behind his eyes at the audacity this guy had saying these things in his house.

Harry can feel his body starting to shift into wolf form, has to take multiple deep exhales through his nose to come back from the edge - knows he’ll kill him if he shifts.

He’s holding himself with his shoulders broad, chest puffing in and out, and his sharp canines flashing at his opponent.

“She is mine. You will not bond her. You will not ever let that thought cross through your thick fucking skull again,” Harry orders in his full blown alpha voice, it’s deep and loud enough to shake the glasses on the table.

All his packmates are on high alert now, standing as well, in case they need to protect Peter from Harry’s wrath - if he does something he’d regret later.

The pack didn’t need Peter’s blood on their hands.

Harry would gladly coat the walls in it.

Peter’s lips visibly quiver, hands shaking as he realizes he truly is not a match for the massive alpha in front of him - especially when it comes to a mate.

Peter realizes that it isn’t worth his life, YN was a nice girl but he couldn’t compete with the elite alpha who wouldn't back down - hasn’t in the past three months.

“You know, you win, Styles. It was never going to work anyways. I’m not an idiot, I can smell you on her constantly - you purposely make her reek before she sees me,” He accuses with his fist clenched at his sides.

“I don’t know why you haven’t mated her but you act as if she’s your mate without the mark, I can feel the bond. I see the lovebites you leave to claim her. You’ve ruined her for anyone other than yourself, you selfish prick.”

YN, who had witnessed the whole interaction from the doorframe, steps back into the room, her eyes filled with a mixture of disgust and anger as they flicker between both men.

“Get out, Peter,” YN breathes through the thickness in her throat, “If I’m too ruined for you than get the fuck out this house.”

Harry shamelessly preens with pride as his betas hussle the douchebag out of the dining room before he can say anything else to YN.

The alpha starts to stalk towards YN but she’s not done speaking, “As for you. Don’t you need to come near me right now, Styles.”

-

“You’re not a half-bad kisser, Styles,” YN giggles girlishly as they sit in the secluded forest behind Harry’s parents home and territory.

“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else be your first kiss, did you?” He replies with his own chuckle before brushing another soft kiss against her lips.

-

“Don’t you dare fucking growl at me either,” She scolds as Harry starts to let a low predatory vibration swirl through his chest, flashing his teeth at her in displeasure for her request but he respects it.

The rumbling gets lower but it doesn’t totally disappear.

“It’s really unfair, you know,” YN bites out but as she keeps speaking her voice begins to wobble and get shakier by the end, “It’s unfair that you’ve ruined me for anyone else but refuse to claim me as yours.”

Harry’s hackles go up defensively at this, his hand splintering the wood of the chair as he leans on it to prevent himself from moving, “Don’t act like I haven’t claimed you since we were babies. There’s a reason you’ve never had a boyfriend for more than a handful of months why alphas steer clear of you - because I’ve claimed you and I’m all over you.”

“If you claimed me, I would have had your knot and a scar on my neck to prove so!” YN shouts back, chest heaving with emotion as she tries to control the boiling over tears.

And Harry is finally silent, taken aback by her blunt words, and how livid she is with him in this moment - he wants to grab her, sink his teeth into the meat of her neck and bond them for life.

How could she not know?

“Mutt, c’mon,” Harry begins but is cut off by her waving her hand to dismiss his words and announcing, “Fuck this, I’m leaving. Don’t even think about following me.”

Harry resists the urge to break every single piece of furniture in his house because he can’t lose her, his mate, twin flame, soul bond because he’s scared of rejection.

-

He ends up at his mum’s estate, sat in the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea that she’d forced upon his before sliding a tray of biscuits on the table.

“What’s the late visit for?” Anne questions curiously as she sits across from her son - the tension in the line of his jaw visible.

“YN is my soulmate,” Harry blurts out, eyes focused on where he’s swirling the spoon in his cup, “I don’t know why I haven’t acted on it sooner. I love her with all of my being.”

Anne chuckles with a secret humor in her tone, reaching over to squeeze his hand, “Darling, it’s been obvious since you were young. It’s been fate since the beginning. You’ve been obsessed with her since you were a babe.”

-

“Mumma,” Harry grunts ambivalently, “M’not going into the park until YN gets here.”

“Honey, Carla said they’re running a few minutes behind. I’m sure YN wouldn’t mind if you started playing without her,” Anne assured him with a pat to shoulder to encourage him.

“No,” He pouts with the finality of an adult as he patiently waits for his friend to arrive, a wide smile blossoming when she runs up and they can finally get into playing.

-

“Then why haven’t I done it, Mum?” Harry huffs out, burying his face in his hands as he groans with the amount of frustration he feels towards himself.

“Despite you being the new alpha of the pack. A big bad fearless alpha who has witnessed much bloodshed to protect your people, you are afraid,” Anne tells him seriously, “You bottle everything up. Your biggest fear in this life is getting rejected by YN - even though she has been waiting for you for years.”

Harry is trying to process everything his mum is saying as she continues, “If she didn’t know you were the one, she would never have allow led you to scent or mark her skin. She would have been bonded to a capable alpha right now - she’s a viable, beautiful omega who didn’t need to wait around but she has.”

“Mum-“ Harry starts but doesn’t know what to say as he starts to push back his chair, he just arrived but he has to go.

“Go dear, it’s about time,” Anne encourages softly as she watches with pride as her son leans over to kiss her cheek before disappearing through the front door.

-

YN was getting sleepy, the campfire was still blazing and the back had barely simmered down but she didn’t have the energy of a wolf.

Peter was having no problem chatting up everyone who came, playing nice guy, and sipping much too quickly on hard cider.

Harry notices right away when YN has hit her limit, eyelids get heavy and her blinks get slower, she places her water down.

She’s waiting for Harry.

The alpha separates from his friends, he knows he’s ‘technically’ overstepping from an outside perspective because she’s Peter’s girlfriend but when it comes to it - she belongs to him.

“Getting tired, mutt?” Harry draws as he stands in front of her, already knowing she’ll deny it like she’s always done.

“M’not,” She argues weakly, rubbing her eye and smearing a bit of her mascara.

“Mmm, sure look knackered to me. C’mon, puppy. Let me get you up to bed,” Harry nearly coos, it’s quite sickening how this big bad alpha bows to his omega - his pack knows better than to comment on it.

“Gotta say goodnight to Pet-“

“Nonsense, don’t need to do that. Let me get you to a nice warm bed, hm? S’getting cold out here. I’ll let him know later,” He lies, knowing damn well he wouldn’t do such a thing.

Harry was actually planning to go back to the party after she fell asleep for the night but once she dressed in one of his shirts and wriggled into the satin of his sheet - he was torn.

When YN mumbled, half-asleep, “H, need a cuddle to go to sleep.”

“Want me to go get Peter?” He quips with a harsh tone, it made him completely obvious and made YN frown at him.

“Want you, please?”

He can’t fucking say no to her is the thing.

He’s never been able to.

So he’s locking his door, shucking off his clothes, and slipping into the bed with her - chuffing and purring to get her to sleep.

-

He’s at the front door of her apartment, of course he has a key but it doesn’t feel right to barge in right now so he knocks.

He’s a wolf, supernatural if you will, he can hear that she’s moving about in her small home - her heartbeat upticking at the hard sound.

YN takes her good ole’ time getting to the door, to switch the lock, and open it a bit begrudgingly before moving aside to let him in.

After it’s closed, she turns to him with a pursed expression - her swollen eyes and damp cheeks giveaway her sorrow.

It’s fucking heartbreaking.

“I’ve failed you,” Harry whispers, shame lacing through his tone as he cups her jaw between his hands, she doesn’t pull away but leans in, “I’ve been a poor excuse of an alpha to you.”

YN’s eyes have a bit of a glimmer, a mischievous twinkle as she shakes her head with a giggle, “You’re absurd, you idiot. Been an amazing alpha, always have taken care of me. Never had eyes for another omega.”

It was true, he hadn’t.

“I was- I am scared,” Harry admits, not feeling very alpha-liked as his shoulders slump and he rubs his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“Of what?” YN presses, hands coming to cup his wrists - twisting her head so she can kiss his palm a few times.

“Rejection,” He grumbles quietly, still avoiding eye contact, “Of you rejecting me.”

YN let out a peel of laughter, “Oh H, I know you’re not that dense, pup. You’ve always known, deep down that we were meant for each other.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” He growls wolfishly to her teasing like she’d done since they were children and he was oblivious to something.

“Well now that it’s out in the open, what are you going to do about it?” YN questions, biting down a grin because there’s nothing more she loved to do than push the alpha’s buttons.

“M’gonna take you to your bed, give you my knot, and make you my pretty little mate,” Harry purrs, eyes darkening and canines shimmering, feral and hungry, “Right, mutt? Gonna let me mark you up? Finally let the world know who you belong to? My pups will be in your belly, you’ll be tied to me for eternity.”

“Stop fucking talking and just do it. It’s about time you do your alpha duties,” YN whines, the sound make Harry hiss and he’s not fully in his logical mind when he picks her up and puts her over his shoulder until he can deposit her on the bed which groans from rusty springs.

“No more of this,” Harry tells her, the alpha timbre threatening to come out but it wasn’t time just, “No more time apart. You’ll come and live where the head omega should, be in my bed and have me pleasing you every night.”

“You’re all talk as of right now,” YN goads, squirming and kicking at him until he grabs her ankles to stop the movement.

“You’re getting real brave, puppy,” Harry sing-songs but it’s dangerous and low, “For someone who’s about to be crying out my name and begging for my knot.”

This was new territory for them but it didn’t feel awkward or too forward, it feels like YN has been waiting a lifetime to hear how much he truly wants her.

“Then touch me,” YN mewls on frustration, still attempting to kick at him but his grasp was too tight until he suddenly lets her legs fall back to the mattress.

“Then touch me,” He parrots in a mocking tone before he’s ducking down to bite her jaw before murmuring, in a complete alpha tone, “Now hush up and be m’good little omega and let me do what I need to do. Yeah? You’re gonna get everything you want, mutt.”

YN’s heart is pounding clear out of her chest as he pulls the nightshirt over her head and her bare breasts jiggle out without a bra - nipples already tight and peaked in anticipation.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re trying to kill me,” Harry gruffs before ducking down to wrap his lips around one of the peaks and suck while his opposite hand palms her other breast.

He waste no time in marking her chest over and over again with his mouth, showing the world who it belonged to.

Sure Harry had seen her tits on a few occasions but it was never for him to ogle and worship them, for him to clip with his front teeth until she squeals and tries to push her chest more into his mouth.

“Should have know how greedy you’d be,” Harry chastises, lapping at bud for a moment longer until switching to the other one.

“M’not,” She rebukes in a kittenish, noncommittal tone as her stomach twitches when his hand starts to move down south, across the expanse of her belly.

“Pup, I can smell you from here. Your slick’s getting on the sheets, you’re not subtle, darling,” Harry chuckles fondly before he’s nipping at her sensitive peaks once again.

When he gets to the hem of her underwear, he pauses to pull back from her chest, “Baby, I need you to tell me it’s oka-“

“S’okay, please, H. Please touch me, alpha,” YN moans, falling deeper into a comfortable, fuzzy headspace where she knows she’s safe.

The word alpha shots right down to his cock.

“Been waiting for so long,” Harry mumbles almost to himself as he shimmies the panties down her thick thighs and he fucking groans when she’s revealed, “Fucking hell, of course, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Look at her.”

YN spreads her thighs more, a blatant invitation that Harry can’t pass up - he can’t stop staring at how perfect and plump she is, absolutely glistening from her arousal.

“My queen,” Harry sighs in admiration, thumbs spreading her lips to get a look at her puffy clit, “Can’t believe you’re gonna give me this for the rest of our lives. Everything about you is gorgeous.”

Harry wants to dip down, bury his face between her thighs, and not come up for air but he knows that all needs to wait - he can’t wait any longer to bond them together and he’s shucking off his clothes, spending a moment kissing her before detaching.

He knows she’s never been knotted before and his is coming on fast - as he’s never done this with an omega either.

“Puppy, you gotta come for me. Give me one and then I’ll knot you, bond us, make you mine. Please darling, give it to me,” Harry babbles, barely audible with how low his tone has gotten, his scent is permeating the room - wrapping them in sandalwood and cinnamon.

It only takes a few directed thrusts for her to start quivering and squeezing her eyes shut, hands on his shoulders as she cries out his name.

“Such a good alpha,” YN moans as she rides out the final waves of her orgasm and that’s all it takes for Harry to push in and still, knot expanding and holding him in place.

It’s instinct, no doubt in his body as he noses her chin up until her neck is exposed, lips finding where her pulse is humming with her sweet honeyed blood and hormones.

He doesn’t even need to ask, YN’s hands move to his long locks, leading him closer to her skin, “Please, H. Never wanted anything more than being yours.”

His sharp canines puncture the skin, their dna combing and dancing, a physical pull in his heart and it feels like their world has completely shifted in that moment.

“You’re mine, pup. You have been since we were children and you’ll always be mine until the end of time,” Harry murmurs as he licks at the wound, tears in his eyes.

Until the end of time but that may not even be enough.

this is so so cute 🩷🥹

summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.

> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k

> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3

—

“oh my god- fuck!”

you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.

jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.

“damn…”

his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.

“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”

but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.

the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.

suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.

the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.

“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”

his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.

“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”

you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.

alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.

“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”

figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.

he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.

and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.

eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.

“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”

“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.

and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”

you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.

the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.

because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.

you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.

“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”

—

“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”

your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.

jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.

“you scared me!”

not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.

“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”

“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.

your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.

“where did you lose it?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.

it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.

“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”

“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”

he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”

he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.

“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”

“but are we just going to leave the car here?”

“did you leave anything in there?”

“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”

he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”

you pout.

“it’s such a bother.”

feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.

maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.

“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”

“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.

he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.

“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”

the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.

“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”

and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.

“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”

he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.

“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”

“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”

he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.

a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.

you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.

your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.

“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.

he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?

“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”

god, please, not your favorite car.

“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”

“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”

you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.

“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”

“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.

it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”

he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.

the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.

you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.

“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”

the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.

“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”

he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.

“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”

“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.

“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”

jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.

your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.

“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”

you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.

“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.

you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.

“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”

angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.

“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”

jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.

“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”

but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.

“eh, it is what it is.”

the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.

“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.

you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.

but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”

“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”

“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”

and just like that, you’re walking away again.

“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”

—

“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”

you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.

“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“what? what am i doing?”

the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”

“why?” your tone borders on a whine.

“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”

“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”

“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.

“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”

“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”

“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”

your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”

“no, you’re not.”

and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”

he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.

fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.

“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”

and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.

“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”

“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”

his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.

“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”

“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”

the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.

oh, he truly got called out, huh?

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”

“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”

“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”

you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.

you can’t be the only one, can you?

“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”

didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.

“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.

for the record, you loved that mug.

“boring.”

“and fighting with me is fun?”

you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”

“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.

all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”

what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?

you don’t know, but you feel good.

and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.

he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.

“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”

“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”

but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.

that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.

“no. no, no.”

his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.

“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”

then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.

“i’m hanging the laundry now!”

“how dare you walk away from me?!”

“you can’t follow me!”

“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”

—

“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”

he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.

“is that it? are you tired of me already?”

he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.

you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”

and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.

you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.

you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”

he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.

“did i turn invisible?”

your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.

you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”

he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”

his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.

your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.

a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”

atleast he tried to shoot his shot.

“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”

he disappears into the closet again.

he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.

“hey!”

you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.

“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”

“no.”

you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.

jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.

he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”

“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.

“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”

he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.

“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.

you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”

“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”

and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.

“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”

it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.

“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.

“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”

his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”

and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.

your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.

who does that so casually? who the hell does that?

oh, right… jungkook. of course.

you raise the white flag today.

perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.

—

“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.

your sour mood makes a reappearance.

to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.

this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.

oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?

too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.

to: my baby love

i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?

orrr is that what you're away buying 😥

WHERE ARE YOU

why didn't you just take me with youuuu

?

please me lonely :(

[sent 1 photo]

a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭

i miss you :(

are you almost done

i hate u

whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.

—

jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.

only to be greeted by a complete stranger.

his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.

the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.

they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.

he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.

not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.

his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.

what the fuck?

okay, calm down, JK. one more time.

he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.

“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”

—

you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.

oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.

you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.

he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?

“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”

upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.

“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”

the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.

“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”

he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.

“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”

sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.

“i like you the most.”

and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.

his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.

“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.

but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”

“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”

he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.

“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.

he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.

you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”

—

jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.

“will you type my password for me?”

you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.

“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”

he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”

“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”

shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.

“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”

that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.

“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”

“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”

“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”

“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.

you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.

“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”

“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”

“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”

“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”

you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.

so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.

you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.

and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?

fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.

you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.

“are you proposing to me?”

“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”

—

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

—

ORGULLOSA DE SER ARGENTINA Y DECIR JARRY

que hermoso q es cuando hacen un one shot y podes verte reflejada en yn 🥺❤️ gracias uma

AT LEAST I'M TRYING

THIS... THIS IS FOR ALL MY ARGENTINIAN BESTIES. THIS IS HARRY MAKING AND TASTING HIS OWN MATE. FOR OBVIOUS REASONS THIS IS LATINA!READER.

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | click here if you don't know what a mate is.

━━━━━━━

When Y/N wakes up from a good nap on the couch, she didn't expect to hear those murmurs from the kitchen.

"How the fuck…– Christ, this looks like fucking soup."

She stands up, running a hand over her face while whispering "como me jode que me despierten de la siesta." how it annoys me to be woken up from my nap. And she enters the kitchen, seeing her boyfriend from behind.

"H?"

Harry turns around scared. "Baby, I woke you up, sorry."

She moves closer to him. "No pasa nada." It's nothing. She tries to see what's behind him, but he hides it. "What are you hiding, mhm?"

The British was about to reply, but a voice on his phone gave him away. "Y así es como tienen su mate perfecto." and this is how you'll have your perfect mate.

Y/N dodged Harry and saw his phone on the counter, with a video tutorial on how to make a mate, and next to it, his mate that actually looked like soup. "Harry..."

He looked at her flushed, loving the overpronunciation on the H that made his name sound different. "Wanted to surprise yeh. Shit, m'sorry."

The Argentine laughs, feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest, and approaches her boyfriend to hug him by the neck and look him in the eyes.

"Que lindo que sos." you're so cute.

"Is that good or bad?"

She just kisses him with a smile on her face and that seems to put Harry at ease. When they part, she grabs his hand to drag him to the counter, pause the video and grab the mate.

"I'm gonna teach you how to make a good mate, okay?"

He nods, and pays close attention to his girl. He listens as she explains how to put the maté in, how much, how to arrange the straw, everything.

"And the sugar depends on your taste, there are people who like it bitter." Y/N finishes, looking at him. "And I'm a faithful believer that you like your mate bitter."

"Yeah? and why's that?" Harry asks, as he prepares to make his own.

"Just make the mate, will you?"

He laughs, trying to disguise his nerves, and begins pouring the yerba into the wooden cup. He repeats the directions the girl gave him minutes ago, and when he finishes, he looks somewhat satisfied.

"It looks good." Y/N murmurs, and starts pouring hot water slowly into the mate.

When she tastes it, her face says nothing, but Harry knows it's not bad. "Let's see... it needs a lot of practice, and I think if my family tasted this, they'd kill you. But it's good, baby."

Harry smiles with his mouth open. "Really?"

"Posta." For real. She replies, sipping on her mate. "Try it."

He tastes it and lets out a hum, it's good, you can taste the maté, but Y/N's right, it'd be better if it was bitter. He can't help the laughter that comes out of his chest, he thought it would be a catastrophe, but he's made his love proud of him. And that was everything.

SO HOT

Love Queen | Eros {Starfox}

Pairing: Eros/Eternal!Reader

Words: 5,866

Warnings: (+18), Eternals Spoilers, Smut, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Light Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Kinda Soulmate AU too.

Summary: She is literally the goddess of love and procreation, used to to all kinds of adulation and adoration towards her, so why this strange feeling when she has just met this Eternal stranger?

Y/N could feel it as soon as the small creature began to speak, and a shiver ran down her spine as she watched him go through the halo of rainbow light. His tall figure draped across the darkness of the spaceship as Y/N came to be unable to hear his presentation and her eyes gazed at the new and imposing body finally appearing in the light. She could feel her pulse soar and her heart trot in her chest as she watched him walk confidently and cockily towards them.

In her mind, she reprimanded herself for not understanding this peculiar reaction she discovered for the first time, an almost burning sensation in her chest as she confusedly kept looking at him from behind Thena and Makkari.

“What a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my fellow Eternals,” was the first thing she heard coming out of his mouth. His husky, slow voice made her swallow saliva and made her look down, almost feeling intimidated, but how was that possible. She had never felt intimidated by anyone, least of all by a man.

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jimin and taehyung are only two months apart but jimin sounds like hes 12 and taehyung sounds like he’s gone through puberty twice and this is why i have trust issues