I WANT TO READ THE NEXT PART SO BAD 😩

i don’t have words this is my new favorite piece 😭😭🩷 loved it way too much, loved them way too much too

The Final - Day 02 | MYG | ONESHOT

MAIN MASTERLIST

Pair: DDAY!Yoongi  x Groupie!Reader 

Summary: You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

Genre and warnings: Just in case there's any confusion, there's no Day 1 or Day 3, this is a one shot about DAY 2 because he looked hot af (as always), idol au, porn with a lot of plot, Yoongi and that damn chain, day two of the final Seoul concerts because I have to write about DDAY every chance I get.

WC: 16k

Being Min Yoongi’s go-to groupie had its downsides. 

Like being looked down upon by a few of his staff and crew, and the very real notion that that was all you would ever be to the man. An easy –albeit good– fuck, someone sure to be avaliable whenever he felt like it, someone he knew he could trust even without the NDAs getting involved. 

But it also had its perks. 

Like free backstage access, free ticket to any and every concert your heart desires, being flown around the world to see him just because he “missed you”, the sure notion that you’d be going home with him every time, and unlimited access to his members.

Day two of D-DAY The Final was coming to an end, the last encore of the night was ringing loudly in your ears as you waited for Yoongi to be done with his set tonight. Seoul had never felt hotter than it did this past week, summer in full swing, and it was made even worse by the very hot man blowing off the roof of the KSPO Dome for hundreds of thousands of fans. 

You were holding onto a cold water bottle, sipping from the straw poked on the lid, the kind reserved for the artists performing, no doubt being sent to you by Yoongi himself. Unless the staff girl who delivered it to you had suddenly developed a liking to you, when just this morning she’d be sending you glares during the first, private, soundcheck. 

“I was so embarrassed, like, right at the beginning of the song?” Jungkook had his eyes closed and a light blush on his tanned cheeks. “There's someone in the mirror that you don't know– I didn’t remember any of it.” 

“ARMY was just happy to see you, Kookie, they didn’t even notice it, I promise.” you assured the man, reaching out to squeeze his arm in support. “You were still incredible last night.” 

“I wanted to do it again tonight, to redeem myself, but hyung said no.” the man had a sheepish bunny smile on his lips, leaning just a little closer to you as the screams outside grew louder. 

“Tonight was Jiminie’s turn, but maybe tomorrow?” you offered, watching him shrug in response. 

You were both backstage, where you’d usually stay during concerts that took place in Korea, using one of the storage boxes as a perch. Your feet didn’t really touch the ground from here, legs swinging in the rhythm of the song playing, while Jungkook was standing up next to your knees. 

You and Yoongi had a few almost-getting-caught scares in the past, where some fans recognized your face and thought it was weird that you were a recurring guest at BTS concerts, going as far as speculating if you were one of the members’ secret girlfriend. You made it to the Dispatch twitter feed once and it was enough for Yoongi to grow protective; either of you, or his own image, you didn’t know. 

For this very reason, you usually stayed with the crew, watching from the smaller TV screens instead of mingling in the crowd or reserved VIP seats. 

Jungkook had the option of watching it from the bleachers tonight, too, where Jimin and a few other close guests were, but he decided to keep you company. Out of all of the members, the maknae was the one to go out of his way to keep you entertained, strike up a conversation and just be pleasant whenever you saw each other. The other five were always polite and you didn’t think any of them frowned upon your arrangement with Yoongi, but Jungkook was always the nicest. 

Maybe it was because of his overall friendly and gentle personality, maybe it was because of the crush he held that you pretended not to know about. 

“I’m glad you weren’t here last night.” he chuckled, bringing your eyes from the TV where Yoongi was dancing while introducing his band and back to the young man in front of you. “I would have been mortified if you had seen that.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him you watched the concert stream from your home, so you did catch Jungkook’s tiny mess up when he joined Yoongi for the very special performance of Burn It. Instead, you went with: “Oh, I’m sure it was much worse in your head! I wouldn’t even have noticed it.” 

“You’re too nice, noona.” he beamed, hugging his torso by crossing his arms. 

“I am sad I missed the performance of Seven, though.” you continued, watching his face light up. “I really like that song, you know?” 

“Ah, thanks.” his smile turned a little shy, a pretty chuckle slipping from his pierced lips. 

When the final notes of The Last –a truly heartbreaking song that made your heart clench every time you heard it– filled the space, both you and Jungkook turned to the entrance of the backstage area, where staff were already pulling on the curtains and lighting flashlights to illuminate the path. 

Yoongi was dripping in sweat when he appeared, heavy curtains being closed once again, keeping him safe from the public’s view. You could tell, even from far away, that his body was buzzing with adrenaline, hand constantly pushing his hair back; as if he hadn’t done enough of it all night. 

Not that you were complaining, far from it. Yoongi looked stunning at all times, but there was something about his concert afterglow, almost as ethereal as how he looked after a good orgasm. 

His team was all over him in a second, girls dabbing a clean white towel to dry his sweat, someone else offering him a water bottle that looked exactly like yours, a staff reaching into the back of his shirt to pull out the cords of his earpiece and remove his mic pack. 

Only after bowing and waving them off, Yoongi looked around, just like you knew he would. He was nibbling on the inside of his lips, eyebrows kissing as he searched for something. 

As he searched for you. 

Because you never made it easy for him, you never rushed out to find him, and he knew that. It was bad enough people around knew what you were to each other, knew you were only there to take away Yoongi’s pent up energy, but you’d be sent on your way home at the end of the night. 

You didn’t need to be known as the clingy fuck buddy that didn’t know her place. 

But it never took Yoongi too long to find you, and your stomach was swarmed with red colored butterflies every time he did. 

“Get the car ready.” Yoongi told his manager, eyes stuck on you as he gave out the order. “Gonna make my way out right now. Just give me a minute.” 

“Sure, Yoongi-ssi. Good job tonight.” the man bowed and pulled out a radio device from his pocket, walking away as he relayed the information: “Car one, on the ready. Standby–”

Yoongi was a man on a mission as he walked up to you, your face breaking into the prettiest smile as you saw him see you. You were so fucking pretty tonight, it was as if you didn’t want him to hold off long enough to get out of the venue. Your pretty black dress had been a present from Yoongi himself, brought to you from his latest trip to Japan, and it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing it. 

Because the teasing mirror selcas you took when you received the package didn’t count. Not by a long shot. Your breasts looked a lot softer in person, the bit of shimmer he could see covering the perfectly round mounds could be either from sweat, despite the AC working hard to keep the backstage cool, or from whatever lotion you liked to apply that made your skin smell and look so good. 

You were temptation on legs, the kind Yoongi couldn’t resist. He hadn’t for years now, wasn’t about to start, either. 

Breaking his tunnel vision, a wider frame blocked Yoongi’s view of you. Wide chest and tattoos making Yoongi falter, stance almost breaking as Jungkook opened his arms to hug him. 

“Hyung! You were so cool up there!” the maknae clinged to him, obviously not minding his sweaty shirt clinging to his chest. “Are you feeling better?”

Yoongi hadn’t seen Jungkook in the VIP area, alongside Jimin and his friends that came to watch the concert tonight, he didn’t even know the youngling would be here tonight. Had Jungkook been backstage all night? With you? Looking like that?

“Thanks, Kook-ah.” he patted the man on the back, gently pushing him off to break the hug. “I’m fine, about to crash.” 

“Hey.” you were greeting, still seated behind Jungkook, making Yoongi step around him to finally get to you. 

Your sweet smile was still there even Yoongi held both sides of your face in his slightly trembling hands to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands held onto his shirt, squeezing and tugging him closer. And Yoongi wanted nothing more than to lick into your mouth, slip his hand to the back of your neck and show everyone just who would be taking you home tonight. 

But you were the one to break the kiss, looking down as if you were shy –which was weird enough, as you were never shy with him–, but then your eyes looked at a spot behind Yoongi’s shoulder, where Jungkook was very much watching the exchange, despite pretending he wasn’t bothered by it. 

It made Yoongi frown, a small twist in his guts and the picking up of his already haywire heart sitting uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Come.” Yoongi called to you, offering you his hand, being thankful when you took it without hesitation. You jumped from your spot on the equipment box, letting Yoongi keep you by his side. Turning to Jungkook, he checked: “You’re leaving now, too? Or are you going with Jimin?” 

Yoongi started to walk, bringing you along and Jungkook got into step with the two of you, on Yoongi’s other side. With a small shake of his head, the maknae spoke:

“Jimin hyung already left, but I think my car is already waiting too.” 

“Good, get home safe.” Yoongi patted the boy on his back, adding: “Sleep so that you can heal from that cough. Don’t go drinking and turning on a live.” 

“I like his random lives.” you giggled, short legs forcing you to almost skip in order to keep up with the two of them. 

“Don’t enable him, kitten.” Yoongi sent you a look, but you only grinned harder. 

The path had been cleared out for the artist to exit the venue as quickly as possible. The longer he took, the more fans would be leaving the KSPO, the more difficult it would be for a swift getaway; not to mention all the traffic and reporters that could most likely follow. 

Two cars were already waiting right by the backstage garage and Jungkook was led into the closest one first. Yoongi was already pulling you to the car in front of it, the one that was assigned to him, when Jungkook’s calling made you stop. 

“Noona, I’ll text you about that coffee, okay?” the way Jungkook avoided looking at Yoongi wasn’t lost on the rapper. 

“Looking forward to it!” was your small reply as you waved. 

Yoongi gave your hand a little squeeze, your cue to hurry up. You never knew who could be lurking in underground garages afterall, so you bowed your head to avoid hitting it on the roof of the car and stepped in. Yoongi was right behind you, the door being shut right away. Two taps to the roof of the vehicle has the driver turning it on and quickly exiting the venue. 

“What was that about coffee?” Yoongi asked you, not bothering to put on his seatbelt as he let his body mold into the cool backseat. “Are you sharing recipes now?”

“Ah, no. He mentioned wanting to take me out for coffee and asked for my number.” you replied, hoping Yoongi wouldn’t be bothered by it. One of his eyes parted to look at you, an unreadable expression crossing his face. 

“And you said yes?” 

You shrugged a little, licking between your lips. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?” 

“Guess not.” Yoongi offered you a tight lipped smile, but yours faltered. 

This was one of the things that really bothered you in this arrangement you had going on with Yoongi. The blindness of this man when it comes to your own feelings. You couldn’t even really blame him for it, when you knew what you were getting yourself into from the start. You knew right away Yoongi didn’t like relationships, he was much too chill to look for labels, to make himself stuck with one person when he was already too busy for his own liking. 

And you were okay with that for a long while, you were still okay with this, or you would have put a stop to it any time he called you for a late night or middle of the day booty call. But sometimes you looked at him and your heart did a thing. That’s when it was a little harder to swallow down the lump in your throat and accept that this is all you would ever be to him, until the day his someone special came along. 

Someone you knew he couldn’t say no to, someone who wouldn’t settle for less, someone so incredible they might take Yoongi’s heart. 

Or until your someone showed up in your life. 

You hoped for that to happen first. 

Maybe with Jungkook. 

You watched with a heavy heart as Yoongi reached for the air conditioning controls in the panel of the door on his side to make the backseat all the cooler. 

“It was really hot today, wasn’t it?” you changed the subject swiftly. 

“Fuck yeah, and the lights don’t make it better.” Yoongi chuckled in that raspy way of his and you were gone. Making home in his back pocket, fitting on the palm of his hand, wrapping yourself around his pinky finger. “I was dripping out there.” 

“So was I.” you offered him a little smirk as his eyes met yours, lowering as he watched you bite your bottom lip. “You looked really hot.” 

“Liked what you saw?” he drawed out, leaning closer to you, pushing your hair away from your neck to replace it with his lips. 

“Very much.” you tilted your head to the side, sighing in bliss as he kissed all over your heated skin. “Why don’t you check?” 

Yoongi’s laugh was raspy from the hours of using his voice, sending tingles all over you as you gently pried your legs open in an invitation. His hand found your thigh, no hesitation or concerns about the fact that this car didn’t have any partition, so all it would take was one look at the rearview mirror for the driver to see Yoongi cupping your cunt. 

Upon finding the wetness you could feel all night, Yoongi’s teeth sunk in on your neck, holding his bite until he was sure he’d leave a mark. You moaned as quietly as you could, gasping as his tongue licked the spot to soothe the ache. 

“Guess the concert was really good.” he spoke quietly, more for himself, dragging his middle finger up and down your damp underwear. 

“You were growling a lot.” you admitted, hands on the edge of the bench as you used it to ground yourself. “And your chain during the second half–”

“What about it, kitten?” Yoongi wanted to know, drawing circles right above your clit. 

“It–it looked like a collar on a leash.” you couldn’t help the small rocking of your hips as you tried to chase after his touch when Yoongi moved his hand away. 

“I asked to keep it.” the man said as you blinked heavily enough to make your brain work a little faster again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a long, metal chain. “I asked because I knew you’d like it.” 

“Oh my god.” you let out a tiny giggle as Yoongi held the jewelry up for you to see. “Can I see it?” 

“It’s yours, kitten.” 

There was a silly, bubbling feeling making your stomach hot and cold at the same time. Yoongi dragged the chain on your naked thigh, sending goosebumps all over your legs as you felt the weight and the coldness of it. He let you take it from his hand, let you see all of the heavy links making up the whole body of the chain. You could see the small, circular ring in the middle, clasping it closed so it would make the same shape it did around Yoongi’s neck earlier. You had a few necklaces like these, reminding you of a leash more than an actual piece of jewelry, but they were a lot more delicate and thin than this. 

Lifting it up to your nose, you breathed in Yoongi’s natural musk, as it was covered in his sweat, and his favorite perfume. Masculine, but never overbearing. Your favorite smell in the whole world. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” you smiled at him, keeping the chain in your hold even as the car moved past Yoongi’s gate. 

The Hannam-dong area was a lot more lavish than your own neighborhood, quiet and made up of homes and apartment complexes you would never be able to afford, even if your modeling agency decided to pay what you believed you deserved. 

Somehow, it matched Yoongi perfectly. That quiet, unobtainable life that reminded you so much of himself. 

Yoongi got out of the car as soon as it was parked in front of the entrance of his building, holding the door open for you to do the same. His driver was already rushing to the booth to retrieve Yoongi’s backpack, where his own clothes, phone and personal belongings were stored and placed in the car ready for his exit. 

“Should I wait for you, sir?” the man asked, but what he really meant was ‘should I wait for you to be done?’. 

It didn’t bother you that he knew the nature of your visit, but the way the driver didn’t directly speak to you, or even look at your face, irked you every time. 

“That won’t be necessary, you can go home.” Yoongi told him simply, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. Jeong.” 

“Goodnight, sir.” he bowed to his employer and you didn’t even try to say goodbye. 

Yoongi noticed how quiet you got, how could he not? He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it, honest and earning eyes making sure you knew he was all that mattered, all you should focus on. And you would gladly do it, too. 

With an arm around your waist, Yoongi led you into the building, past security and into the elevator. You could see the adrenaline was slowly moving away and leaving him; you knew what was coming next, already wondering what kind of food he’d order for dinner. 

“Will you really make Mr. Jeong leave his bed when it's time to drive me home?” you asked Yoongi while the elevator took you up to the third floor of the short building. “Not that I mind too much, but he already doesn’t like me.” 

You were perfectly fine taking a cab or a general paid ride, but Yoongi never liked that, always preferring that his driver take you home. It was a safer option, privacy and all that. 

But then he spoke words you never thought you’d hear from him:

“You’re not going home tonight.” Yoongi shrugged, as if it was a common occurrence, having you stay over. “Is that okay?” 

“You never ask me to stay the night.” you babbled, walking out of the elevator to wait in the hallway as he unlocked his front door. 

“We’ve spent the night together before, what are you talking about?” Yoongi looked at you as if you were crazy, letting you walk into the apartment first. 

You scoffed, taking your shoes off by the door as Yoongi did the same after turning on the main lights and locking the door after himself. 

“Yeah, when we’re out of town.” you pointed out. “At hotels, or rented places. Not when we’re here and I have a perfectly good home to go back to.” 

“Mhm.” he hummed, as if tracing his memories to find out if what you were saying was right. Before you could move much further down the hallway, Yoongi held you by your waist, taking a step to press you against the closest wall. You sucked in a small breath as his nose bumped against yours. “If that’s true, then it’s about time we change that.” 

You couldn’t help the skyrocketing of your heart at Yoongi’s words. Despite your brain begging you to not believe it, that he was just saying that to get you to melt and turn putty in hold. But it was small moments like these, little things he did or said that made the lines so deeply drawn in the sand to blur. You wouldn't mind getting rid of it altogether. 

Yoongi’s teeth nibbled on your bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth to suck on. Your hand slipped into his hair, wet with a mixture of sweat and hair products. 

"Yoongi–" you sighed blissfully, pressing your body into his as your every nerve ending craved him. 

It was then that the pitter patter of short nails on marble and a small whine, followed by a bark made you pull your lips from Yoongi’s grasp. 

You gasped for a whole different reason, pushing Yoongi away in order to properly look at the tiny dog jumping on his hind legs to greet you and his appa. 

"You didn't tell me you got Holly back!" you chirped, settling on your knees to coo and pet Yoongi's dog as he laid on the floor, showing you his tummy. 

Holly, the brown poodle, had a bit of a shared parenting situation, where he would stay with Yoongi in Seoul whenever he had a work schedule that allowed him to stay in Seoul for a while. The other half of the time, he'd stay in Daegu with Yoongi’s parents, who treated the puppy like a grandson. 

You've met Yoongi’s parents once before, and things weren't as awkward as they could have been, considering. You knew they were in town to watch Yoongi’s concert yesterday, so it didn't surprise you they brought Holly back. 

"Wanted it to be a surprise." Yoongi smiled, melting your insides into goo. "It would be too easy to make you want to stay if you knew he's home." 

You rolled your eyes, which he couldn't see, as if it would ever be hard for Yoongi to convince you to spend the night. 

"Well, now I might just stay the weekend." you bluffed, not really expecting the words to come out of his mouth next. 

"You're welcome to." he simply stated, getting back to his original height after tickling Holly into squirming. 

"Alright, now I'm worried." you chuckled nervously, standing up as well. 

"What?" 

"Why do you want me to stay so much?" you pondered, following him down the hall towards his bedroom. "Am I not gonna be able to walk tomorrow or something?" 

"Oh, shut up." he laughed, pulling you to him by your waist, gluing his front to your back as he dragged you into his room. Walking with a grown man stuck to you was tricky, but you would never complain. "Shower with me." 

"But Holly–" 

"He'll still be here when we're done." he whined, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

It wouldn't need much convincing on his part to get you to agree to shower with him, when you knew exactly what he looked like under the running water of his fancy ass rain shower. 

You dropped your purse and gifted chain on top of Yoongi’s bed on the way to the bathroom, barely missing it on Yoongi’s rush to drag you into it fast enough to lock Holly out. The puppy barked a couple of times before going to find something else to do. 

“Should we order food now so it's here when we're out?” you asked Yoongi as the thought just now crossed your mind. 

“I don't want to have to rush.” Yoongi answered after pondering for a couple of seconds. “Are you too hungry now?”

“No, but I know you.” you mused, crossing your arms. “You have your after concert phases.”

“Phases?” he enquired, tilting his head as he held the hem of his shirt between his fingers. 

“Mhm. First you get horny, which is why you're dragging me into the shower.” you lifted a finger, then another. “And then you get hungry and cranky if you don’t eat right away.”

“I don't get cranky–” he snorted, pulling his shirt off the rest of the way. 

You hadn’t seen Yoongi like this for a couple of weeks, as you were busy with work and he was rehearsing for the last three concerts of his tour. Although, if you were being honest, you’d drool over his body even if you were lucky enough to see him naked everyday. 

Yoongi was gorgeous all over, and he’d put on some very appreciated weight, as he usually did during tours. It meant he was eating well, which would always make you happy when you worried for his well being on the road. His chest muscles were filled up, biceps bulging, and a soft, yet lean, stomach that you planned on kissing and biting before the end of the night. 

“Okay, if you're sure, we can order after the shower.” you settled, knowing the possibility of coming to regret it was very much real. 

“I am.” he assured you, despite you knowing him like the back of your hand. 

Soon after, his pants were joining his shirt on the black marble floor, along with his boxers. You liked the fact that, during his solo concerts, Yoongi didn’t have to wear the protection cups male idols had to use when dancing was involved. To this day, you still remembered laughing about the weird piece when you helped Yoongi undress when he forgot he still had it on.

And, to confirm your theory about Yoongi’s ‘post concert phases’, his cock was very much half hard and hanging long. Phase one was in full force, it seemed. It also explained why he was so impatiently waiting for you to undress, despite already walking into the glass shower stall and turning it on. 

You took your time taking your dress off when you heard: 

“That dress looks really good on you.” Yoongi was eating you with his eyes from behind the shower door, talking a little louder so you’d hear him. 

“Thank you, it was a gift.” you beamed, letting the black piece fall to the floor. 

“Whoever gave it to you has good taste.” he gloated, which made you laugh as you hooked your fingers on the sides of your underwear. 

“Eh, his ego is too big, so don’t tell him I agree.” 

After getting naked, much to Yoongi’s relief, you stepped into the shower, breathing in the steam, feet relaxing after being in uncomfortable shoes for so many hours. Yoongi was already dripping from head to toe, wet hair long and pushed back and away from his infuriatingly handsome face. His eyes were closed as he rubbed soap on his lids to remove his makeup. 

You approached him sheepishly, hands on his sides as you kissed his chest and collarbones. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction at feeling you close, tipping his head back to get rid of the soap on his face so he could look at you. Water splashed on you, and his own body temperature was telling. 

“Isn’t the water too hot for you?” you questioned, continuing to kiss his body as your hands roamed his back and you pressed your fronts together. 

“A little, but that’s how you like it.” he shrugged, wrapping his arms around you and taking a step back so you could both share the water stream. “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect, but you usually complain about it.” you pointed out, linking your hands behind his back, not really planning on letting him go for the time being. 

“Just because it makes me all pink and flushed.” he chuckled, having a little bit of a hard time to reach for his facial soap and squirt some of it on his palms. “But you also like that, so.” 

“I always think you’re cute.” you trailed off, closing your eyes as he started to massage your face with gentle fingers to also remove your makeup. And he always did a much better job than if you did it yourself. 

“So I went from hot to cute in less than an hour?” Yoongi complained with a whine to his tone, making you laugh. 

“You are a man of many faces.” your eyes were still closed as Yoongi moved from your face to massage the water into your scalp, the hot stream relaxing every muscle on your body as it fell freely onto the two of you. “Agust D is hot. Yoongi is cute.” 

The man in question was laughing and you felt it all over you as his chest rumbled and his shoulders were shaking, bringing a smile to your own lips. When you finally opened your eyes, you regretted immensely. Because the way he was looking at you was not the way you look at someone you’re just fucking. 

You hadn’t decided yet if those loving eyes were hurtful or proof that it was okay to hope. You weren’t ready yet to have your heart broken, in case you were painfully wrong, so you had to change it fast. And the way you found to do that, was to bring your hands to his front, dragging them down his stomach. 

Yoongi’s gaze darkened, which was something you were much more used to dealing with. His breathing grew labored in anticipation, forehead pressing against yours as your fingertips reached the short patch of hair and found his erection. 

“You complain I get horny after concerts, but you’re always enabling me,” he groaned as your hand wrapped around his base and you squeezed him lightly. “So, it’s your own fault.” 

“I’m such a horrible person for doing that.” you smiled against his jaw, running your hand up and down his cock, bringing him into fullness. “Should I stop?”

His fingertips pressed harder against your sides, a warning for you to stay where you were, doing exactly what you were doing. Yoongi’s lips searched for and found yours, starting a wet kiss that made your knees tremble. One of his hands left your sides to hold the back of your neck, tongue coaxing your mouth to open and let it in. 

Your lips parted and you chased his tongue with yours. You explored each other’s mouths as if you didn’t have them mapped out at this point, as if you didn’t know what that tongue could do, or how he had a bit of a biting problem when it came to your lips. Yoongi’s kiss always felt like the first kiss all over again, enough to make your heart buzz in your ears and your body respond to it in ways that should be shameful. 

Yoongi took your bottom lip into his mouth, giving it tiny tugs and long sucks, making you moan against his mouth as your hand closed around his tip. 

“You still have that soap?” you asked quietly as you couldn’t properly move your hand with all that water. 

“I always keep a bottle here, in case you come over.” Yoongi nodded, searching for the bottle in question amongst the hair and body products he kept in the ledge of his shower wall. 

“Always prepared.” you giggled, letting go of his cock to offer your palm up to him. 

The soap he poured on your hand was oil-based; a specific kind of lube-like product advertised for these very moments. The bottle was almost empty, definitely less than the last time you saw it, and you hoped he used it on his own, instead of using it with other partners. You didn’t think Yoongi would have the time or the patience to entertain multiple people at the same time, but you would never be brave enough to ask him about it either. 

When you brought your hand back down, the glide up and down his cock was much easier, making Yoongi groan in pleasure and throw his head back, the perfect opportunity for you to kiss his long neck, feeling as he swallowed hard when you closed your fist around his tip again, flicking your wrist a couple of times. 

“Much better.” you mumbled against his neck as you licked and sucked on tiny spots of his shoulder you knew would be covered by his shirt at tomorrow's concert. 

“I’ll say so–” Yoongi agreed breathlessly, hips moving a little faster to fuck himself into your hand. 

Before putting the bottle where it belonged, Yoongi took a bit of product into his own hand, spreading it on his fingers and bringing his arm between your bodies. You were already parting your feet carefully not to slip in the process, but giving Yoongi enough room to slip his hand between your legs. 

“Dunno why I use this,” you could feel the smirk in his tone as two fingers slipped between your folds. “You’re always so wet for me.” 

You had a comeback on the tip of your tongue, you were sure of it. Too bad you couldn’t remember what it was as his fingers kept dragging up and down your folds, just barely grazing your clit before moving lower to tease your little hole. 

Your forehead rested against his shoulder as you held his cock with both hands, working on his shaft as you diligently flicked your wrist just under his tip, using your thumb to spread the lube and the slick dripping out him, circling his velvety head. 

“Fuck, you know just how to touch me–” he cursed lowly, chest almost trembling the more you did what he liked. “Getting me so close, kitten.” 

“I know, it’s my favorite talent.” you smiled to yourself, slipping one hand between his legs to cup his balls. 

“Aw, shit–” 

Seeing as you were playing with the tread keeping him on this earth, Yoongi focused on his own hand between your legs, done with the teasing, bringing the pads of his fingers to your bundle of nerves. Yoongi played with your clit, pulling the hood back, letting the slippery, swollen nub slip between his fingers as he moved them up and down, massaging the sane out of your brain. 

There were a few reasons why his staff didn’t like you, and the fact you couldn’t really control your noises when it came to Yoongi was definitely an easy one to point out. You weren’t ever wailing and yelling bloody murder, but when Yoongi made you feel good, you let him know. The shower water wasn’t enough to muffle your moans, and the man was throbbing and pulsing in your hands from how much he enjoyed hearing your every sound. 

“Oh, please–” you cried out when his fingers moved down again, the tip of one pushing inside your clenching hole. 

“Yeah, kitten?” a rhetorical question, yet you still nodded. Yoongi’s voice was low and borderline immoral as he teased: “Want them inside this tight little pussy?”

“I do…” you mewled, almost losing focus on your own hand movements.  

Yoongi circled your entrance again, tearing out whimpers from you, until you lifted your head to look at him. You knew he never resisted when you looked at him like this; big eyes, wet lashes sticking together, a tiny pout on your lips. It was enough for him to push his digits inside you, just to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw fall slack. 

The stretch was minimal from how aroused you were, how wet you felt all night, and the soap definitely made it even easier for Yoongi to push them as deep as he could. 

“Faster, baby.” he groaned with one swift movement of his hips. “Wanna make a mess on you.”

“You’re so hard.” you mumbled between moans of your own, both hands closing around his thickness and jerking him off faster. 

Your hands moved up and down, tugging and squeezing. When you looked down, between your wet bodies, you saw how his usually pale pink tip was colored red, as if he’d been holding back. You wondered if it was painful and if it was blending with his arousal, making every stroke feel better and better. 

His fingers hooked inside you, the angle just right and practiced, finding your sweet spot with ease. Yoongi’s palm pressed against your clit, rubbing it as his fingers fucked in and out of you fast enough to make your vision blurr and your legs shake. At every upstroke, he hit your g-spot perfectly, close to making you unravel fast. 

Taking you by surprise, Yoongi hooked his free hand on your thigh, lifting it and holding it up, opening you up so that his hand could reach a new angle that made you whimper loudly. One of your hands held onto his shoulder for balance, even if you knew he’d never let you slip. 

It would be so easy for you to bring his cock into your entrance like this, the angle was almost perfect. You were both looking at each other’s hands and Yoongi read your mind as he said: 

“Later, kitten. Wanna take my time when I fuck you later.” 

“But I love your cock so much.” you complained with no real bite. 

“I also know you like my fingers.” he sounded smug, but no lies had been told tonight. “Want you to cum around them first, okay?” 

“Uh-huh–” 

All left for you to do was to agree, you were already so close just from his fingering that you might not have the time to bring him into your pulsating walls. Yoongi focused his efforts into fucking you just right, beautiful knobby fingers working your cunt fast and hard, just as you stroked his cock with as much passion as he was giving you. 

But Yoogi wouldn’t cum before making you unravel, no matter how painfully hard his cock was in your hand. Lucky for him, all it took were the three words delivered to your ear, in that gravely tone of his, to have you coming undone. 

“Cum for me.” 

It wasn’t a request, not even permission, but an order that was easy to obey. You didn’t even have that much control over your actions when Yoongi was commanding your body as well as he was. Your lower stomach tensed and your nails sunk in on his shoulder, gard enough for him to hiss and hold you a little harder. You trembled endlessly as he kept fucking you, guinding you through what you could only describe as a mind blowing orgasm you only ever reached when you were with Yoongi. 

When he gently let your leg go, making sure you wouldn’t lose your balance, your second hand reached for his cock so you could make him cum for you right away. You pumped him up and down, hands covering his tip, then slipping all the way down to his base. Yoongi’s moans were the best thing you heard all night, and after a concert filled with growls, note changes and his fast rap, it was saying something. 

Thick ropes shot out from his flushed tip, hitting part of your chest and your stomach, painting you with his pleasure. There was so much of it coming that you wondered if he even touched himself from the last time you were together. For some irrational reason, you liked that theory, saving it into your heart even if it wasn’t true. 

“Fuck, how do you always do that?” Yoongi moved his fingers out of your pussy, holding you by the ribs to press your body flush against his. 

“Do what?” you sounded a little drunk as you were forced to let go of his cock with his movements. 

“Drive me crazy.” he explained as you circled his neck with your weak and tired arms. 

“Bet you say that to everyone.” apparently your brain and your heart were disconnected as you spoke those words. 

If only you knew you had nothing to worry about when all Yoongi said was: 

“There’s no one else, kitten.”

Yoongi was taking too long to get off the phone with his parents, you could hear him repeat ‘yes, eomma’ a few dozen times in the past ten minutes. You knew he must be starving by now, you definitely were and you weren’t even the one jumping around for two hours. 

Your shower took a little longer than expected as you both forgot just how hard oil-based lube was to wash off, not to mention washing Yoongi’s hair, and then yours. By the time the food finally arrived, your lover was cranky –as you knew he would be– and it was way past midnight. 

You were wearing one of his shirts, kindly offered to you as your impromptu sleepover didn’t allow you to pack an overnight bag and you didn’t have any spare clothes in his closet. It was rare when he brought you home, and you had never stayed over the whole night. 

Instead of dissecting what any of this could mean, you focused on opening all of the takeout boxes and spreading them around the center table of his living room. You had never tried this restaurant before, but ever since spending some time in Thailand, Yoongi was addicted to Thai food. He ordered dishes that you just had to try, resulting in a lot more food than you were positive you could finish. 

“God, I love that woman, but she drives me crazy sometimes.” Yoongi was walking down the hall to meet you in his living room. 

He was wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, low on his hips, shirtless torso as his neck and shoulders were a little flushed from the hot shower and what obviously was a vexing conversation with his mother. 

“Is everything okay?” you weren’t too concerned, knowing how their relationship had its ups and downs. The two were too much alike to function smoothly at all times. 

“Yeah, she just couldn’t understand why I can’t go to brunch with her, hyung and Chun-hae.” Yoongi sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch at your side. “‘What plans can be more important than having a meal with your family and your brother’s new wife?’” 

You were laughing at his imitation of Mrs. Min, covering your mouth while you chewed and attempted to swallow a piece of duck meat without choking. “If you have plans for tomorrow morning, then maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to stay?” 

“You’re part of the plans.” he told you without hesitating and you swallowed hard. 

“Morning sex is hardly an excuse to skip breakfast with your family.” you pointed out, checking your phone to look at the time. Maybe you could still text Yoongi’s driver to pick you up after dinner. 

“That’s not all– what the hell is that?” Yoongi was staring at you with a deadpan that made you look at yourself, then at the center table you were sitting behind of. 

“Uh… I was hungry, so I started to–”

“No, that in your hand.” his eyes were squinting as you lifted your phone, understanding right away what he was talking about. “An iPhone? Really?” 

“Oh my god, don’t start. The camera is really good in this phone.” you huffed, wondering just how much Samsung was paying him to be this pro-Galaxy. Flipping your phone around, you showed him your case: “Look, I even have your photocard in the back.” 

That made him stop, cheeks flushed, fighting with the corner of his lips to stay down. 

“Still. I’ll get you a new Galaxy.” he stated and you scoffed. “And some D-DAY stickers.” 

“I’ll take the stickers.” 

You scooted a little to the side, patting the spot on the rug next to you for Yoongi to sit next to you, unwrapping the spare chopsticks and parting them in the middle before offering them to him. Yoongi took them with a tired sigh and licked his lips as he looked over the food options. 

While he started to eat, you opened the can of diet coke for him, the noise making Holly lift his head in curiosity, studying you from where he was laying between the TV and the table. 

“Why are you watching a still picture?” Yoongi asked with a full mouth of veggies and noodles, bottom lip shiny with the sauce. 

“It’s not a still picture, he just went to get a drink.” you explained, reaching for the noodles Yoongi had just tried to do the same. “You don’t recognize that room?”

The image on TV was still, you’d give him that, but just because Jungkook wasn’t in the frame. You could kind of hear his footsteps and the clicking of ice as the boy made himself another drink. It took Yoongi a few seconds to realize what you were watching, the Weverse logo at the corner being an easy giveaway. 

“He’s live again?!” Yoongi groaned, making you laugh. 

“He was doing an unboxing of your album.” you told Yoongi, watching him chew in pout. “Which, by the way, why does he get an autographed copy and I don’t?” 

“You said you wanted to buy the album yourself.” Yoongi looked at you as if you just told him the craziest thing. 

“Yeah, because I’m a supporting friend.” nagged. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t accept an extra, signed copy.” 

“Okay, I’ll sign a spare copy and give it to you later.” Yoongi decided, but you were already shaking your head. 

“I don’t want a pity album!” 

“Okay, then I won’t give it to you!” he bickered, taking a scoop of rice and bringing it to you, instead of his own mouth. 

You let him feed you the sweet rice, watching him watch the way your lips closed around his chopsticks as he dragged them out of your mouth. His own cheeks were filled with food, but you would still kiss the shit out of him right now if he let you. 

“Can you make it out ‘to kitten’?” you relented. “And sign it as Agust D?” 

“Sure, kitten.” 

You smiled with a closed mouth, not trying to flash him while you chewed your food. 

Yoongi made a good decision when ordering Thai food as you didn’t dislike anything you tried from the assortment of things Yoongi picked. Now you had one more reason to wish you were able to go to Thailand with him; if it wasn’t for a new clothing line you had to take pictures for, you would have made it, too. It was bad enough that you missed out on his boat rides and snorkeling, now you knew you missed a whole lot of good food, too. 

The two of you ate in partial silence as you watched Jungkook get back into frame with a microphone that had apparently been gifted to him by Spotify, singing a song or two, but mostly talking to his audience. He kept bringing up Yoongi’s concert and you knew he was still beating himself up for messing up the lyrics. 

“Is that all you are?” Yoongi asked, but he was looking ahead, so you weren’t sure he was even talking to you. 

“Hm?” you reached for a napkin to wipe your lips clean, already full just by watching him eat. 

“A supporting friend?” he still didn’t look at you, but your previous words rang back to you. 

You frowned, surprised Yoongi was still stuck on that when you didn’t even remember what you were talking about anymore. But his question, and his small frown, confused you. 

“Aren’t we friends?” you asked quietly as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “Do I not support you?”

“We are and you do.” was his simple answer. 

“Then what’s wrong with what I said?” you wanted to know, but didn’t want to push him in any way. You could tell there was a lot going on his mind right now, the adrenaline of the concert completely gone by now. 

“Nothing, I guess.” he shrugged, resting his back against the couch behind you, pausing the movements of his chopsticks to look at you. “Just feels a little weird to call you a friend when I can still smell your cum on my fingers.”

“What do you want to call me then?” 

Your voice was weak as you rested your chin on your knee, watching his eyes twitch ever so slightly, his tongue poke between his lips to wipe off any leftover sauce. Your heart was betraying you as your stomach felt cold at the prospects of his answer. 

Unfortunately or not, his answer was a simple:

“Guess I haven’t given it much thought.” 

All you could do was hum in agreement, lost in your own thoughts as your eyes moved back to the TV. You couldn’t help but wonder if Yoongi would give it a thought now that it was brought to his attention, or if he’d dismiss it altogether and things would always stay the way they were. 

“I was at hyung’s concert tonight again, he is so cool, isn’t he? Hyung worked hard.” Jungkook spoke up, so much fondness when it came to Yoongi that you wondered if he could be the maknae’s favorite hyung. “Ah, no I wasn’t sitting with Jimin hyung, which is why you didn’t see me. I was, uh– backstage with someone else.” 

You knew you were the ‘someone else’ in question, a small smile arising in your lips at the mention. 

“No, I can’t tell you who it was, stop asking.” Jungkook scolded playfully. “And stop calling me Ian–” 

You laughed at the mention of Ian and Jungkook’s tiny mistake when outing his secret Tiktok account, only realizing Yoongi was staring at you when you felt his burning gaze. It made your neck flush, but you pretended not to notice it. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go now.” the boy on TV started to wave at the millions of fans watching him, just as Yoongi got up to get the half empty takeout containers back to the kitchen. “Please support hyung at tomorrow’s concert too.” 

You turned the television off before Jungkook was properly gone, not really liking the way Yoongi had grown quiet all of a sudden. You picked up the last boxes left behind and followed him into the kitchen, helping him find the correct plastic lids to each one, seeing as he was a little distracted. 

The ping on your phone alerted you of a new text message coming in, both you and Yoongi looking at the device on top of the kitchen island on pure reflex. 

Jungkookie sent you a message, unlock to view. 

You looked at Yoongi in time to watch his shoulders drop as he turned around to throw away the used chopsticks. You always enjoyed the view of his back muscles, the 7 tattoo on his shoulder, knowing you were one of the few to know it was there, but you hated how his head was hanging forward and his posture was slouching. 

“He isn’t wasting any time, huh?” came his voice, even if he wasn’t looking at you again. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” you cursed yourself internally; you didn’t have to make Yoongi feel better about this. If he didn’t know what you should call each other, then Jungkook might. If only it was that easy to ignore whatever was bothering Yoongi. 

The man hummed again, in that way that told you nothing. You reached for your phone to read the message: 

Jungkookie: Were you watching the live, noona?

Harmless, just making conversation, making sure he had your right number, perhaps. And then your phone pinged again.

Jungkookie: Are you going to watch hyung’s concert tomorrow again? 

You: Hi, Kookie! Yes, we watched your live. I liked the purple lights in your room. 

You: And I’m not sure I’m coming to the concert tomorrow yet. 

Jungkookie: If you’re not planning on seeing hyung tomorrow, then can we grab something to eat instead? 

Jungkookie: My lights are much cooler in person. 

Maybe he really wasn’t wasting any time indeed. You didn’t know what you were expecting to feel when giving Jungkook your number, but… This wasn’t it. Yes it was exciting and it was nice to be asked out on a proper date, to have someone as cool as Jungkook being obviously interested in you. 

But what would happen if you said yes? Would you end up in his bedroom with the excuse of seeing his cool lights? If it didn’t happen on the first day, what if it happened on the third? Would you even be able to make it to the second date without thinking of Yoongi and what it would mean for the two of you? 

“Everything okay, kitten?” his voice was quiet, maybe a little reluctant. 

You looked up from your phone then, deciding you wouldn’t make any conclusions tonight. 

“Of course, everything is fine.” you locked your phone and put it on silent mode, locking the screen and placing it on top of the island once more. “Should we finish cleaning up?” 

“I already cleared everything.” Yoongi told you and you looked over your shoulder, realizing that all of the trash had already been taken care of and the food was stored in the fridge. 

“Oh.” 

“I lost you there for a minute.” 

Yoongi’s words felt heavy on his chest and he didn’t even know why. 

Or maybe he did and just wasn't ready to properly dissect what he was feeling tonight. From learning Jungkook spent all night keeping you company, to how he asked for your number and you gave it to him, and to how you were obviously texting each other already. 

Yoongi knew of Jungkook’s crush on you, the maknae didn't really hide it; big eyes always so obvious and honest. But Yoongi didn’t think Jungkook would ever do anything about it. Wasn't it against some kind of rulebook? 

Don't mess with your brother’s… Girl? Friend? Fuck buddy? 

Yoongi never felt the need to put a name on what you were to him, what you were to each other. But ever since finding you backstage with Jungkook, it started to nag at him. Was this how it felt to be threatened by someone else? 

"I'm just gonna put Holly in his pen for the night, if you want to go wait for me in the bedroom." Yoongi told you quietly, too scared you might have changed your mind about staying. 

"Sure you don't need help?" you offered, and a little of the weight of the rocks in his stomach lifted. 

"He might get hyper again if he sees you." Yoongi chuckled with a shake of his head, walking around the kitchen to turn a few of the lights that were no longer needed. "They say dogs don't pick favorites but I call bulshit."

"Baby, I don't think anyone says that." 

You had that tiny, shy smile on your face as Yoongi circled the kitchen island, stopping him at the new term of endearment you just used. It made him falter, eyes widening a fraction. 

"I'm usually the one calling you that." Yoongi chuckled, but it sounded more like a wheeze. 

"Oh. Does it bother you?" you nibbled on your bottom lip, but Yoongi used his thumb to set it free. 

"I think I like it." he thought more than that, if he were being honest. 

"I'll be waiting in the bedroom, then." you let him know, raising on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

"Kitten." Yoongi called before you could walk too far, motioning to the device on top of the marble island. "Aren't you taking your phone?"

"I won't need it in there." you shook your head. The only thing you needed tonight was to have Yoongi close to you. "Besides, I assume you don't have an Apple charger?"

"See? If you had a Galaxy, your battery would last for days–" 

"Alright, say goodnight to Holly for me." you interrupted the man before asking if he became a Samsung CEO and forgot to mention. 

At least you could say a bit of the palpable, smothering tension was going away, since you were still able to laugh together. You could tell that leaving your phone behind did something for Yoongi’s mood. You wouldn't dare say he was jealous of Jungkook in any way, not when you knew how he felt about you.

But Yoongi was clearly confused about something, on some minimal level, if anything. Otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned you weren't just a friend, he wouldn't even question it. 

If he didn't realize at this point how much you belonged to him, wordlessly, irrevocably, however unrequitedly, maybe it was about time you showed it. 

As he moved to take Holly to his playpen for the night, you went to Yoongi’s bedroom with an idea in your mind. It was pretty simple, really, no great gestures or a big confession planned. 

But Yoongi was a smart guy and he knew how to read between the lines. If he didn’t understand what you meant, then maybe he wanted to remain clueless;  it would be your own hint that maybe you should let go. 

Your purse was still on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, the chain he wore tonight at the concert was laying next to it. You picked it up and walked to the large mirror on the closet door, unclasping the jewelry before bringing it to your neck. 

You had to fasten it a little tighter against your throat than it was on his, the excess chain resting on your collarbones and reaching all the way between your breasts. You admired how the collar-like chain sat snug against your skin, how the simple fact that you were wearing it, and it belonged to Yoongi, made your breathing grow slow and heavy, dull throbs sparking between your legs. 

You heard Yoongi’s lazy steps as he came down the hall and joined you in the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. 

"Kitten, about tomorrow," Yoongi started, but his next words died on his throat as you turned around to face him. 

"Yeah?" 

You smiled softly, walking closer to him as you watched his eyes flit from the chain around your neck to your eyes, down to your lips and back to the chain. 

Yoongi was almost a head and a half taller than you, way wider with his broad shoulders and chest that narrowed into a surprisingly slim waist. 

In your work field, you saw handsome men every day, you've worked with actors and the occasional idol in brand deals and campaigns in the past, to the point you weren't affected by a pretty face and it took a lot to make you blush or squirm.

And then there was Yoongi. 

So beautiful in every way, the prettiest pouty lips, cutest nose, most honest eyes and golden heart. His hair was parted in the middle, falling softly and shiny around his face, the tips a little curly from being allowed to dry naturally instead being blow-dry. 

"What's this, hm?" his hand reached for the chain resting between your breasts, the back of his fingers gently grazing your mounds, making you tingle all over. 

“Wanted to know what it would look like on me.” you told him as you took a step closer, fingers reaching for his shoulder to absentmindedly trace the faint scar with your thumb. “What it’d feel like.” 

“Looks pretty.” Yoongi stated, hand moving higher as he held the chain and gave it a tiny tug. You swallowed hard, a tiny gasp of surprise following. “How does it feel?” 

“Good.” you looked into his eyes, hoping yours would convey what you were trying to show him. 

Claim me, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. 

Yoongi kept a firm hold on the chain to keep you in place and your eyes fluttered closed just shy of missing his lips break into a side smirk. His lips pressed gently against your cheek, dragging over your jaw, finding your ear. Yoongi took the lobe into his mouth, pulling on it with his teeth as his warm breathing made you melt on the spot. 

“Wanna keep it on?” he asked in a whisper and you pondered if he could hear your heartbeat reply. 

“I do…” you sighed heavily, both hands resting on his chest. “Is that okay, baby?” 

“Anything my kitten wants.” Yoongi’s mouth was making its way to yours, your body trembling with the way he said my kitten. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” 

You nodded as words seemed to leave you at that very moment Yoongi’s arm circled around your waist to press you against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck, eyes still very much closed as you felt his breath ghosting your lips. Yoongi was still holding onto the chain with his other hand, even when he held your neck and part of your jaw. 

The warmth of his hand was contrasting to the coldness of the chain, his body was smooth and his lips wet when they found yours. You sighed against his lips, melting and turning into a puddle in his hold as his tongue licked between your lips, asking for the permission you easily granted. 

Your back bowed the more Yoongi pressed into you, tongue swirling around your mouth, playing with yours, deepening the kiss as your heads tilted to opposite sides. The moment he let go of the chain, you sucked in a deep breath, some clarity returning to your hazy brain, but it was minimal with the way both of his hands traveled down your back to squeeze and palm your ass. 

His hands slipped under your shirt, kneading your cheeks, pulling your hips harder against his to let you feel the very prominent bulge that already started to form inside his pants. You sighed and moaned softly the higher his touches moved, fiery trails being left behind by his fingertips until you had to part the kiss to allow Yoongi to pull the fabric off your body. 

The chain fell against your chest with a light clunk, making you wince and Yoongi look at you with a small veil of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in that raspy voice of his, making you almost forget what the words meant. 

“No, not at all,” you assured him, hands going back to his shoulders as his rested on your ribs, just shy of your chest. “Just cold.” 

“Let me make it warm, then.” 

Yoongi leaned closer to your neck, blown out pupils were the last thing you saw when your eyes fluttered closed and you offered your throat for him to kiss. His mouth opened and closed against your skin, covering it in wet kisses. His teeth worked as hard as his lips and tongue, no doubt covering you in more marks and love bites. 

The man’s hands cupped your tits, squeezing them as his thumbs rolled your stiff nipples, making you moan a little louder and rub your thighs together. You loved everything Yoongi did, how he touched your body, knew when to push you and when to go slower. You felt drunk, even if the only alcohol you had tonight was the shot of whiskey you shared with the artist before he went on stage, and that was hours ago. 

As his lips made their way back to your jaw and ear, you felt yourself tremble at his breathy words:

“Kiss me.” 

It sounded like a request, not an order; almost a plea. One you would do your very best to obey regardless. Your eyes parted as your hands moved from his shoulders to his neck. You had to look up to his handsome face, beauty too delicate, lips too bitten, eyes too perfect, as your difference in height didn’t allow you just to lean in. 

Your lips parted as you reached out for him, chasing for his mouth, breath getting caught in your throat when–

“What’s wrong, kitten?” Yoongi’s tone was teasing, head cocking sideways as you couldn’t move. The restriction around your neck, as Yoongi gripped on the chain, made it impossible for you to reach his lips. “Don’t you want to kiss me? Shame.” 

“Yoongi–” you whined pitifully, hands slipping into his long, dark hair, trying to bring him closer to you, but to no avail. “I always want to kiss you.” 

“Then why don’t you, hm?” the teasing continued, paired with the licking of his lips to taunt you further. “Don’t you want to be a good little kitten for me?” 

You were growing squirmy, trying to reach those perfect, petal colored lips, suck on his tongue, anything, but the firm grip around your throat didn’t let you move up. And then Yoongi gave it a light, downward tug, making your neck sting and your shoulders drop. Looking up at him, you saw a tiny challenge in his eyes and your brain took a little while to catch up to what he was hinting at. And then your eyes widened in what must have been a comical way, as Yoongi’s chuckle warmed your heart. 

“Fucking cute.” he praised, making you even more shy under his stare. 

“Yoongi.” 

Your hands left his neck to hold his sides, trace his curves, as your lips met his collarbones. You might not be kissing his lips, but you’d peck and nibble wherever you could reach. You seemed to have gotten the right idea as Yoongi hummed in content when you dragged your lips all over his chest. 

When you reached his nipple, flicking it with your tongue, you heard him hiss and pull on the chain again, moving you lower on his body. You knew he was sensitive, but never missed the opportunity to make him squirm. 

Yoongi retaliated by not granting you a lot of time to kiss his tummy, barely allowing you to trace the lines of his stomach with your tongue. Your thighs were burning and your back was bent uncomfortably, so the final tug had you dropping to your knees on the floor. The wood was heated, but hard under your knees, but this was a point of view of Min Yoongi you’d never get tired of. 

From this angle you could see the planes of his chest, the sharpness of his jawline, the strands of long hair framing his face as he looked down at you with lowered eyes. 

“Will you let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock?” he nudged and you replied with a nod, hands reaching for the waistband around his hips. “Nuh-uh. No hands, kitten.” 

“But–” your complaint was cut off by a harsher tug of the chain and your lips parted as arousal pooled between your legs, making your underwear stick to your folds. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, sir.” you shook your head, bringing your hands under your thighs to make sure they stayed away. 

“Good girl.” Yoongi praised, free hand tapping your cheek hard enough to make it warm, but not enough to hurt. 

God, you loved it when he treated you like this. Like you weren’t breakable, he knew how far you could go. You went crazy for the way he handled you like you were his good little kitten, ready to please him in any way he saw fit, any manner he was in the mood for. And after watching him on stage tonight, acting like a King and looking like a God, you’d give him anything he wanted. 

Body and soul included. 

You brought your face closer to his lower tummy, kissing just under his belly button, licking at the faint happy trail. Your teeth nipped his skin on accident as you tried to bite the elastic band of his pants, but all it did was make Yoongi groan. You tried a few different approaches when trying to use your mouth to get rid of the sweatpants, whole body wobbling as you fought with it, but it was fruitless. 

Yoongi’s hard cock was pointing up, tenting inside his pants, and the elastic band was too tight, slipping back into place one one side when you managed to lower the other. The man was looking down at you with an amused grin, likely knowing this was exactly what was going to happen from the moment he forbidden you from using your hands. 

“Something wrong?” he started again and it took you a lot of self control not to slip your hand between your legs at his mocking tone. “Do you not want to suck my cock, is that it? But you love drooling all over it–” 

You’ve had enough, huffing impatiently and bringing your mouth to his tip, lips wrapping around it over the light fabric of his pants. He cursed under his breath, hold on your chain making your skin prickle as he pulled out of pure reaction. You were looking at him through your lashes as you made sucking sounds, tongue wetting the material; even if none of this was pleasant for any of you, it still got Yoongi moving. 

“If you’re just gonna act like a brat–” Yoongi complained with no real bite, pulling you away from his cock by the metal around your neck. He let go of the chain to use his hands to shove his pants down his hips and thin legs, kicking them away when they pooled around his ankles. “You better be good to me now, open that fucking mouth.” 

“I’m always good.” you offered him an innocent little smile that didn’t really fool him anymore. 

You scooted closer to him again, mouth open and willing, tongue out as you brought it to his cock. The tip of your tongue gave it a couple licks, mouth closing around him as you sucked more and more of him into your willing, wet cave, not stopping even as you felt him in the back of your throat. Your eyes stung with tears from the sudden stretch of having him slipping down your throat with no prep, but you’d be damned if you didn’t shut him up with your deep-throating skills. 

Yoongi had been the one to train you on it, afterall. 

“Show off.” Yoongi cursed, sounding fucked out and raspy. “Behave, kitten.” 

As you pulled off his cock, letting it slip out of your throat, you held back a cough and took deep breaths to allow air to fill your lungs again. You had a wicked little smile on your spit covered lips, a thick string of it connecting you to his tip. You flicked your tongue over it to make it snap, hearing Yoongi’s raspy moan as his weight shifted from one leg to the other. 

He pushed your hair away from your face to get a better view of you, gently tucking it behind your ears before nudging his cock against your lips with a movement of his hips. You slipped your tongue past your lips to kitten lick at his sensitive tip, swirling it around the leaking head, moving lower as you traced a fat vein down to his very base. 

You mouthed at Yoongi’s cock, feeling small twitches against your lips, broad strokes of your tongue making the man tremble as he towered over you. After giving his smooth tip a wet kiss, you kissed down his length, past his base, stopping at his balls. You were looking up at him as you opened your mouth to take one of them into it, giving it gentle sucks that you knew drove Yoongi absolutely mad. His body was starting to collect a thin layer of sweat, trembling hand pushing his hair back and away from his face for the hundredth time tonight. It was a shame your mouth was too full and you couldn’t tell him how stunning he looked at this very moment. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Shit.” Yoongi groaned as you repeated the same action with the other ball, until you let go of it with a loud pop. “Come on now, let me fuck this pretty mouth.”

“It’s yours, baby.” you admitted, hoping he could read between the lines. “All of it.” 

“Yeah?” the man was breathless as his gorgeous hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it up and down, squeezing to find some relief as he let you breathe. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” 

If Yoongi knew what he was doing, he was just plain cruel for playing with your feelings like this. But you still nodded, you still opened your mouth for him. 

“Damn right you are.” he growled, holding his base with one hand and your chain with the other, pulling you close to his cock and slipping it into your mouth. He was lucky you relaxed your jaw as fast as you did, just barely missing your teeth. “Never gonna choke on another cock like this. You’ll never like another as much as this one, right kitten?” 

You moaned around him as a reply, jaw already aching as his hips rolled and pulled back and pushed forward, slowly starting to fuck your mouth, just like he promised. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you rested your hands on his tights; not only were they starting to feel numb, being stuck under yourself for so long, you needed to find some balance. 

“My kitten.” he continued, getting lost in your warm mouth, making spit collect and dribble down the corners of your lips. “Mine.” 

You didn’t know Yoongi to behave this possessively, but you were going crazy for it. If you had half a brain right now, you might have connected it to the fact this was pretty much the first time Yoongi ever had competition, the first time he knew about someone else showing interest in you and it was making alarm bells ring around his head. 

As more and more growls escaped from his swollen lips, the faster he fucked your mouth, slipping all the way to the back, pulling off so your cheeks could hollow as you sucked, licked and slurped at a pace you knew would make him unravel fast. And Yoongi knew it, too, taking a step back to take his cock out of your mouth and holding you in place by the chain as you tried chasing him back. 

“Not gonna cum in your mouth, kitten.” he let you know, but didn’t sound so sure of it himself. “Come here.” 

“Selfish–” was all you managed to say, between the ache on your jaw and your slightly sore throat. 

Yoongi laughed cutely, just a raspy sound coming out in staccato. He helped you back onto your feet with strong, bulging arms, holding you close to his body as he looked at your neck. Despite your little whines of complaint, Yoongi unclasped the chain from your throat. 

“You’re all red, baby.” he told you quietly, breaking his Dom streak for the time being. “Did I hurt you?” 

“I’m okay, I promise.” you sighed, smiling as you kissed his cheek. “I can take it harder.” 

“Sure you can, kitten.” his smile mirrored yours, wet and hard cock resting between your bodies. Yoongi kissed your forehead and looked at your neck again, blowing on it to soothe the soreness. “Will you get on the bed for me?” 

“How boring.” you teased with a giggle, making him roll his eyes playfully. You turned around to follow his request, getting a smack on your ass in response, making you squeal as you ran away from him. 

You were still laughing as you kneeled on the mattress, scurrying all the way to the headboard to sit by the pillows. When you turned back around to face Yoongi, you saw his back as he stood in front of the mirror. You couldn’t help but gawk at his broad shoulders, thick arms, the dip on his spine. His skin was flushed pink, the 7 tattooed on the back of his shoulder was small, but still a beautiful contrast to his complexion. 

Your gaze was shamelessly stuck on his surprisingly round and plump ass when he turned around, saying: 

“My eyes are up here, kitten.” 

“I know, but your ass–” you giggled, but it went away as soon as it bubbled. 

The chain was around Yoongi’s neck again, circling his throat, the end of it still long enough to rest between his pecs. The way he was biting on his bottom lip told you he was a little nervous, which wasn’t something you ever saw Yoongi being in bed. He didn’t say anything else before climbing on his mattress to meet you, the chain swinging back and forth as he came closer. 

Mine, you spoke in your head, wishing for it to be true. Let me claim you, too. 

“Lay down for me, kitten.” Yoongi asked, holding your hips to pull your body down and help you lay on his bed. “Want you like this tonight. Want to see you. Okay?” 

“Anything you want.” you nodded, heart betraying you as you wanted to shy away from the intensity of his stare. “Always. Anything.” 

You sat up on your elbows and took the dangling part of the chain in your hand, gently pulling him closer, hearing his own gasp as you finally met his mouth again. Your legs parted for Yoongi’s hips to fit in between them, heavy and leaking cock hitting the inside of your thigh as he got comfortable in your hold. 

The kisses exchanged were sloppy, deep, mind numbing. You were barely tugging on the chain, just holding Yoongi close as his body leaned on top of yours and your head met his pillow. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently and letting it drag back into place between his teeth. 

One of his arms sneaked between your bodies to part your legs a little wider, taking his cock in his hand and giving a few lazy pumps as he brought it to your pussy, rubbing it up and down to coat it in your slick. 

“Want to feel all of you, kitten.” he groaned from the feeling and the thought, looking at you as he continued: “Can we do it like this? Please.” 

You were sighing in bliss as you reached to push his hair out of his face, gently running your nails through his scalp and smiling when it made him close his eyes. You didn’t always skip a condom, even if you were on birth control every single time you had any encounters like this one. But you knew you weren’t Yoongi’s only partner in the past, and he respected you enough to never ask this of you when he’d been with someone else in a short period of time. 

Despite promising you that he always wore protection with any of them, which you wholeheartedly believed. And maybe you liked to hurt yourself as you asked:

“How long has it been?” you asked, watching him frown in confusion, obviously getting lost in his own pleasure. “How long has it been since you’ve been with someone else?” 

“Too long.” he shook his head assuringly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I wouldn’t ask–” 

“What about Thailand?” you asked him quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“What about Thailand?” he repeated, letting go of his cock in order to cage you in with his arms as this was obviously something you needed to talk about. 

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” you shook your head, but Yoongi sighed. 

“You always do this. You always pretend things aren’t bothering you when I know they are.” he told you, but his words were gentle and un-accusing. His lips kept pressing against your face, placing small kisses as he said: “Tell me, baby. Tell me so I can ease your mind.”

“It’s just something I heard tonight.” you admitted, as there would be no arguing with him. Your arms circled his neck as you ran your nails behind his shoulders. “One of your crew members was talking about how you brought a girl back to the hotel after the Bangkok concert.”

“What–” Yoongi groaned, as if it was the first time he heard about it. 

“Said she liked the new girl better than me.” you were aware of how small you sounded, realizing you were more upset about this than you previously thought. “Less needy, quieter, doesn’t demand things. All I did was ask her for directions to the bathroom once–”

“Who said those things?” he demanded to know, raising his body on his elbows to properly look at you. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes, because if someone on my team has been spilling lies about me behind my back, I’m going to do something about it.” he stated, but it was his next words that sent a thrill through your veins. “No one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

You could tell Yoongi was getting worked up about this and if the girl really was just talking out of her ass, most likely because she knew you were listening and would be hurt by those words, then Yoongi wouldn’t let it go so easily. But you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night talking about it, or dealing with a stressed Yoongi. 

He had a perfect concert tonight, he deserved to relax. 

In an attempt to soothe him, you cradled his face, running your thumb against his cheekbone, giving his lips small kisses. 

“I didn’t mean to stress you out about this right now.” you told him between pecks. 

“Have you been thinking about this all night?” his eyes were closed, but the lines between his brows were evident. “Thinking I was with someone else like this?”

“Not all night… Only when you weren’t around.” 

“I promise you there were no other girls. For ages now.” his eyes opened to make sure you were listening. There was no way he didn’t hear your hear beating like crazy when he said: “There’s only been you.”

“Did you miss the memo?” you teased, explaining when he frowned: “You’re a rock star on the road, you were supposed to have a different partner every night.” 

“I could have, but no one would ever compare to you.” the movement of Yoongi’s hips, pressing his hard length up and down your folds, was followed by his groan and your moan. “Why waste my time when I got you?”

“Yoongi…” you mewled, squirming underneath him as his cock hit your clit over and over and over again. “If you keep saying shit like that, I’m gonna fall for you.”

“Took you long enough.” Yoongi cried out in pleasure as he kept rolling your hips against yours, hiding his face where your neck and shoulder met, but you could still feel his smile. 

“What–”

“We can talk about this later, but you feel too good right now.” he mumbled a complaint and as much as you wanted to make him say what the fuck he meant just then, you could agree. “I don’t mean to break the moment but–”

“No, yeah, I… Fuck, please.” you spread your legs wider, angling your hips to invite him. “I need you, yeah?”

“Like this?” Yoongi’s body lifted a little so you could both look between your bodies, where his cock was leaking and making an even bigger mess of you. “If you’re not okay with it, I can go get–”

“You’re not going anywhere.” you told him so when grabbing the chain around his neck to pull him back. 

Yoongi barely toppled on top of you again, arms around you as you attacked his lips, needy for a kiss. You took it upon yourself to bring your hand between your bodies, finding his cock so you could stroke him, gently squeeze around his head, tug him a few more times before lining him up with your entrance. 

With a tiny squeeze around his base, you let him know it was okay to move, breathing in a sharp gasp as he moved his hips to press them forward and slip his tip inside your wet, clenching hole. You let go of him, bringing both hands to hold his neck. Keeping up with the kisses was heard, the two of you becoming a mess of tongues and lips the more he pushed forward. 

You were whimpering the more he pushed his cock into you, walls stretching to accommodate him. With one last swift movement, Yoongi bottomed out, kissing your cervix with how long he was, fucking you so deep you forgot how to–

“Breathe, kitten.” he mumbled against your lips, kissing down your throat and collarbones. “It’s gonna feel good soon. Just breathe for me.” 

You did as he asked, breathing hard through your nose and letting it go from your mouth. It was easy to forget all about the pain as Yoongi kissed his way down your body, as much as his position would allow him, looking at you thought dark lashes as his mouth reached your tits. He kissed all over the soft mounds, leaving a trail of heat until his pout found your nipple. 

His tongue rolled around the bud, making it shiny and wet just before taking it into his mouth to give it long sucks that made your back arch. The new movement cause his cock to stir and nudge that sweet spot within your walls and the moan he pulled out of you was sweet as honey. 

"Baby, please." one of your hands slipped deeper into his messy hair, the other was holding onto the chain around his neck. 

"Yes, kitten?" Yoongi grinned as he let go of your nipple just to make his way to the opposite one and repeat the same suction movements and teasing with his tongue. 

"Fuck me." you whispered, trying to move your hips underneath him. 

"What was that?" he asked with an arched brow after pinching your nipple between his teeth. "Couldn't hear you properly." 

Yoongi was a little menace when he wanted to be, making you squirm as you tensed your pelvic muscles, clenching around him, repeating yourself: 

"Fuck me, Yoongi." you begged. "Fuck me good so that you're the only man in my mind. Make me cum so hard we'll have to change the sheets before falling asleep, then wake me up so you can fuck me again, over and over, until your neighbors know whose name I'm screaming–" 

"Fucking hell–" 

A full body shiver raked through Yoongi, a deep breath slipping past his lips as he raised himself on his arms. You missed his warmth instantly, but the view of him on top of you, long chain dangling from around his neck, flushed body, hips snug against your middle, was all worth it. 

Especially when his hips pulled back and you both watched as his cock came out of you coated in your arousal. You could feel every bump, ridge and vein, just like he could feel your walls fluttering around him. Despite being careful when pulling out, Yoongi shoved his cock right back in, both of your moans being almost completely drowned out by the squelching of your pussy. 

“Fuck–!” you cried as your body rocked as Yoongi kept that pace going, brutal and skilled. 

“Look at you bouncing on this big cock, hm?” the man had the audacity to tease you, thrusting time and time again to make you squirm and bounce the harder he fucked you. “So fucking tight, too. My pretty little kitten, stuffed full of cock, sounding like a slut.” 

“You greet your fans with that mouth?” was all the comeback you managed to spill, a hand on his chest and the other holding onto his chain for dear life. You could already see red lines around his neck, but he wasn’t complaining. 

“Yeah,” he gloated, obviously happy with himself. “But you’re the only one who gets to know what else I can do with it.” 

You had to laugh, slightly delirious as you thought about his mouth and just how many times he made you cum in record time using only his lips and that sinful mouth. But then again–

“Actually –fucking hell–,” you sighed, the top of your head just shy from banging on his headboard as Yoongi upped his pace. “Pretty sure you were rapping about your tongue skills tonight as well–” 

“Okay,” he continued, obviously amused about how chatty you were being. “How about you being the only one who gets to experience it, hm?” 

"I'm okay with that." you agreed with a quick nod of your head, clenching and twitching underneath him. "Fuck, baby, you're always fucking me so good– Filling me up all the way. I can't–" 

"Yes you can, take it like a good girl." 

Yoongi must be nearing his end as his thrusts became sloppy and a little less consistent but just as good. You could feel him all the way in your guts, stretching you wide, making you want to scream his name. You only realized you were pulling on the chain again when his elbows bent and his nose was nudging yours. You kept him glued to you, swallowing his every moan, feeding him your own.

Your pussy was clenching like crazy, neither of you finding time to properly breathe as you hooked a leg around his waist. Yoongi pushed deeper and rolled his hips over and over again, hitting all of the good spots, hipbone abusing your swollen clit. 

"Gonna cum, Yoongi, oh my god!" you squealed as you writhed underneath him, steel grip on his chain as your nails from the other hand sunk in on his back. 

"Cum for me, kitten, make a mess for me," he growled like a starved beast, hips pistoning into you with the little bit of stamina he still got. "Good girl, just like that–" 

Your legs gave out as you started to tremble, lower stomach tensing until the band broke and your orgasm hit you hard. Your vision went blurry and your ears buzzed as you creamed around Yoongi’s cock, wave after wave rolling off of you as you went just a little more insane. 

Yoongi’s own orgasm was tipped right after yours, a delicious warmth spreading inside you as his thick cum filled you up so much you knew you’d make an even bigger mess. His chest pressed you into the bed, both of you clinging to each other for dear life. 

Your breaths were heavy, bodies sweaty, sheets as ruined as the two of you were. There were tears in your eyes from the mess of emotions you were suddenly hit with, knowing now that the sex was over, Yoongi didn't need to enchant you with sweet words and empty promises. 

"Did I hurt you, baby?" he asked you with worry, noting your red rimmed eyes, kissing the couple pesky tears away. "I'm sorry if I was too rough…"

"You were perfect. You're always perfect." you assured him, pulling him in for another hug, hiding in his chest. "Just fucking me stupid, that's all." 

That seemed to distract him and you felt his body shaking as he laughed. Yoongi didn't let go of you for a very long time, what felt like ages, really. Until you could both breathe again and the haze swirling around your brain dissipated. 

The idol only let go of you when he could feel his cum start to leak out of you, rushing to the bathroom to clean his softening cock. He got back to you with clean cotton shorts and a damp cloth, insisting on being the one to clean up the mess between your legs. 

You were a little wobbly when you used the bathroom after him, needing to pee, avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands and your face. You looked absolutely wrecked, in the best way possible. 

Your neck was a little purple in spots, both from Yoongi’s kisses and the damned chain. Your hair was a mess that wouldn't be fixed without conditioner or brushing lotion. Your hips had finger marks all over–

"Baby, are you okay in there?" Yoongi asked, already opening the door and making you yelp. 

"Hey! I could be on the toilet!" 

"What if you were?" he scoffed, as if it was no big deal. "I've seen you do worse." 

"Debatable!" you complained in a high pitch. "I can't have one moment to myself?" 

"Nop." Yoongi grinned happily, showing you his gums. He walked to you next to the sink, bringing a clean shirt to put over your head, going as far as pulling your arms through the holes. "You were taking too long and I was missing you." 

If your own blush wasn’t the first to betray you, you could have teased him for his post-sex neediness. 

Yoongi wasn’t looking much better than you, now that the chain had been taken off, his own neck was red and bruised, likely to give his makeup noonas a hard time covering them enough for his concert tomorrow night. There were scratches all over his shoulders and back, hair just as messy as it was at the end of the show. 

He pulled you into his body for one last hug before holding your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom. Yoongi led you out of his room right after, going further down the hall as he dragged you into the guest bedroom, where he had already pulled out the covers of the bed, likely too tired to change his sheets tonight. 

You found a water bottle waiting for you at the side of the bed, happy with the fact he remembered how thirsty you got after sex, chugging it down in almost one chug. Only when you trusted your voice not to waver and you were both lying in bed, with Yoongi pulling you into his arms, you said:

“What about tomorrow?”

“Huh?” he blinked like a confused cat.

“You were going to tell me about the secret plans that involve me and not morning sex.” you reminded him of the subject that was pushed aside when he saw you wearing his chain earlier. 

“I never said no to morning sex.” he pointed out as you laid with your cheek on his chest. His hand was drawing patterns on your arm. 

“Okay, so after the morning sex–”

“Uh. Yeah, there's this new coffee shop that just opened up, and they do american style breakfast.” he started, just a little hesitant. 

“Oh, I love American breakfast!” you chirped, tracing the few lines on his stomach with your fingertips.

His chuckle was cute and endeared. “I know, that's the only reason I said yes to getting out of bed that early when we were in Chicago.” 

“I never woke you up before 11am.” you squinted up at him with a shake of your head. 

“Like I said, early.”

“Okay, well. What about this new place?” you insisted, curiosity getting the best of you. 

“I wanna take you there tomorrow. Check out the place.” he shrugged, but you sat up. 

“Oh, Yoongi…”

“You can say no, if it's weird.” he was nibbling on his bottom lip as he watched you. 

“No, it's not weird, just... it sounds like a hype place, and, well, won’t people see us?” you were worried, despite going out for breakfast with Yoongi sounding like a perfect morning plan. 

Besides the morning sex. 

“Does it bother you?” he frowned, adding: “Being seen with me?”

“Why would it bother me?” you chuckled under your breath, it felt like you were talking about different topics. “I know you like to keep your reputation, so I don't mind–”

“My what?” Yoongi sat up a little higher against the headboard.

“You know… Not being seen with a girl?” you held back the rolling of your eyes. “Isn't that why I can't watch your concerts from the seats?”

“No??” he looked bewildered, as if you were insane.  

“What??” you were the one confused now, a slightly amused laugh sounding incredulous. “You asked me to stay backstage after that Dispatch tweet linked us together…”

“Yeah, because I didn't want it to put you at risk, not because I mind that people saw me with you!” he reached out to smooth your hair, but you doubted that it did anything. 

“Oh.” 

“Is that what you've been thinking all this time?” his head tilted comically and you felt your cheeks burn. 

“Well, yeah?!” 

“Why wouldn't I want to be seen with you, baby?” Yoongi pressed and you opened and closed your lips a few times before deciding on what to say. 

“Because I'm just…” 

“You’re not just a friend.” he stopped you, finally making up his mind. Completely tilting your world upside down as he continued: “And I'm tired of pretending that you are.” 

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😭 so good loved it

TO BE SO LONELY

A/N: i think it's easily the juiciest smut i've written. just woke up and i was like "oh yeah, this is gonna be good" and needed to write it so... enjoy!

PAIRING: Harry X Reader

WARNINGS: smut, dom/sub stuff, edging, mouth fucking, a bit of degrading kink? idk im really bad at these tags lol

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

masterlist

“Thank you so much, Y/N!” the fans say in unison as the last photo is taken and you make sure everyone got what they wanted.

“Of course. Have a great time tonight!” you smile at them, knowing that they will be down in the pit later tonight at the concert. They told you all about how excited they are to finally see Harry perform and you assured them that he is just as excited to be on stage.

“She is so nice,” one of the shorter girls whispers to her friends, standing already a few feet away, but you still heard her, a smile tugging at your lips. You’ve been trying to build up a great relationship with Harry’s fans knowing well they are so significant in his life. Unlike his previous exes, you might have had it a bit easier than them, having been friends for a long time with Harry before you finally took it to the next level. Now you’ve been together for four years and even though there will always be people feeling bitter about you, most of the fans approve of your relationship, seeing how happy you are making each other.

You wave at them one last time, ready to continue your walk back to the hotel when one of them calls after you again.

“Yeah?” you turn around, not at all irritated that they are holding you up. It’s just one tiny gesture from you, but they will probably always remember meeting you, you’d rather give them a nice experience.

“Do you know why he doesn’t play To Be So Lonely anymore?” the brunette girl asks shyly and you breathe out. It’s come up several times since tour started, but you genuinely have no idea why the song never made it to the set list.

“I wish I could tell,” you tell them with an apologetic smile.

“You could convince him to play it!” the tallest of them chimes in.

“You guys really like to call him an arrogant son of a bitch, huh?” you smirk, making them laugh. “I’ll… ask him, okay? But I can’t promise anything.”

“It would be so great, because we will be here for night two as well,” the brunette muses. You can tell they are huge fans, queuing for two nights in a row, that’s dedication, not even mentioning the money they invested into it.

“Give me an Instagram name, I’ll let you know what he said,” you sigh, giving in. They excitedly get back around you as they decide whose username to give you. Putting it into your notes you bid them your final goodbye and head back to the hotel.

It’s only noon, so Harry is still lounging in the hotel room. Arriving you find him only in a pair of shorts, lying across the bed, scrolling on his phone. His head shoots up when he hears the door open and close, already smiling when you come into his vision.

“Hello, love. Had a nice walk?” he hums, following you with his eyes as you drop your bag and kick your shoes off, changing them to the fluffy slippers the hotel gave you.

“Yeah, you should have really come,” you smile back, thinking how the girls would have lost their shit if you were with Harry when they met you. But Harry felt a little too tired, wanted to get some more rest before tonight’s show. All the traveling has been taking a toll on him, though he wouldn’t admit it, he is too proud for that, but you notice the way he is out like a light almost every night, turning into a pile of bricks when his head finally hits the pillow. Okay, not instantly, he surely makes sure to fulfill his boyfriend duties more than enough. And now as you see him lying in bed shirtless, you just can’t stop your eyes from wandering around his naked chest. It’s always like the first time over and over again, he never fails to stun you with just… existing.

Putting his phone aside he reaches out, grabbing the air to show you he wants you there with him. Without batting an eye, you shimmy yourself out of your tight jeans to make you comfortable, leaving you in only your tour merch shirt as you climb to bed, Harry’s arms wrapping around you, pulling you on top of him as he kisses your cheek sloppily.

“Missed me?” you grin at him, his hands moving up and down your back, reaching lower with each stroke, his fingers brushing over your bum until he finally just grabs it shamelessly.

“Always,” he smirks, lifting his head so your lips could meet.

Walking into the room you had the intention to ask him about To Be So Lonely, but quite honestly, when you feel his hands slide under the fabric of your panties and turning you over he gets on top of you, the song definitely slips your mind… you’ll ask him later, right?

Right.

It’s impossible not to grin as you watch Harry surrounded by all those signs. It’s impressive how they all got together to demand justice for a song. Harry is pretending like he can’t see any of them, but you know it’s hard for him to do so.

These girls really do want to hear that song, why wouldn’t he finally give in? You’ll have to step in. After all, they should get what they want for their money, whether it’s Harry twerking, his naked chest or… a song where they can call him an arrogant son of a bitch.

He is still on his adrenaline rush when you leave the venue, all handsy and touchy, he can’t tear himself off of you, not that you mind it.

“H, stop!” you giggle, when his hand slides under your skirt. His driver, Malcolm has seen and heard enough of the two of you on this tour, doesn’t need any more trauma.

“Sorry,” he growls, but doesn’t seem to actually mean it. Cupping his face you smack a kiss to his lips before patting his chest gently.

“Behave a little.”

He is trying his best, he really does. Keeping his distance as you head up to your room, but as soon as you step inside, the beast is out.

“Harry!” you squeal when he throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bed like a caveman as you hold onto his waist so you don’t fall face first.

“I’m so fucking horny!” he growls and you can’t help but chuckle and smack his ass that just riles him up even more. He throws you to the bed, making you bounce from the action as the sheets wrinkle around you. Climbing on top of you he is quick to attack your lips with his, putting most of his weight on you, a moan slipping through your lips, your legs locking around his waist. But as his mouth travels down your saw and throat, devouring you eagerly, your eyes open and you remember what you were supposed to talk to him about tonight.

“H?” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair. He just hums in response, but doesn’t stop. “Why don’t you just put To Be So Lonely on the setlist?”

He stops, your question clearly surprising him. His head lifts so his hungry green eyes meet yours and you can tell how puzzled he is.

“I’m sorry, did you just ask me about my setlist when I’m trying to get some sexy time?”

You chuckle at his words, nudging his butt with your heels. Pushing himself up to his hands he puts some space between the two of you, but his hips are still pressed against yours.

“I met a few fans today and they were curious why you wouldn’t just play it. They’ve been begging you since the beginning of tour and I know you saw the signs tonight.”

As you speak, you trace his features with the pad of your fingers, when you reach his lips he gently bites on it before kissing it.

“It was just a general, creative decision to leave it out,” he gives you the diplomatic answer, but you know it’s not the truth.

“Okay, so then make another creative decision and put it on the list.”

“Y/N, it’s not that easy to mess with the set list,” he sighs dramatically and you give him a look.

“Uhuh, so you can just randomly sing about a girl dressed as a banana, but can’t put To Be So Lonely on the list beforehand? With time to rehearse and all that?”

Harry growls, his head falling forward to the nook of your neck. A few seconds pass by and no answer comes, but you feel his lips nibbling on your skin, he is trying to avert your attention, but he is not gonna win this.

“H? Why are you so against the song?”

“Because quite frankly, when I wrote it, I didn’t think thousands of women will scream at me at my concerts, calling me an arrogant son of a bitch,” he snaps, giving you a stern look, but you know he is not mad, just a little frustrated that you brought it up when he was trying to get into your pants.

“You can’t be that narcissistic, baby. It’s a great line and… kinda true.”

“Okay, you have the right to call me that, but I would like to keep it that way.”

“It’s not against you. It’s like a joke you share with your fans and they are sad you took it away.”

“They will get over it,” he shrugs, trying to lean down to kiss you, but you move your head out of the way.

“Or you can just give them what they want,” you suggest, giving him the puppy eyes.

“Babe, are you seriously talking about this when I’m literally throbbing for you?” His hips push against you and it’s pretty clear how much he wants you. It’s taking everything in you not to drop the subject and just jump his bones, but… you feel like you owe this to those girls and all his other fans.

“We would be over this if you just told me you’d put it on the list.”

“Not happening,” he shakes his head stubbornly.

“Okay, then…” you push him off of yourself, breaking up the position you’ve been in, his shocked eyes following your movements in disbelief as you stand up from the bed. “Then this is not happening either.”

He stares at you, like you’re a ghost as you fix your shirt and walk over to your suitcase, digging into it aimlessly. You just need to do something so you don’t bend and get back in bed with him. Then you hear his laugh and you dare to peek at him.

“I can’t believe my own fans are cockblocking me!” He is kneeling on the bed, shoulders curled forward as his head hangs low, shaking from side to side with a chuckle. And you can clearly see the outline of his hard cock that makes your thighs shudder.

Folding your arms on your chest you watch him climb off the bed, nearing you but he stops a few feet away, hands on his hips.

“So no sex?”

“Not until you put the song on the list.”

“What if I told you I’ll perform it tomorrow?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you, but you weren’t born yesterday. He is a sneaky arrogant son of a bitch who doesn’t shy away from playing you when sex is on the line.

“Nah, I don’t trust you. You’ll get this,” you say, pointing at your groin, “after I heard you play the song.”

He stares at you for a couple of long moments, probably hoping that you’d break, but it’s not happening, not this time. He then gives up, his head falling back as he growls in irritation.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he mumbles under his breath, heading into the bathroom and you know that the setlist will be longer on night two in Chicago. You won.

Grabbing the doorknob he stops, glancing back at you one last time.

“Babe, I’m going in there and I’m gonna use my own hands. Probably for the first time since last tour,” he informs you, referring back to the time when you spent the most time apart at the beginning of your relationship. The two of you often sought relief on FaceTime, using your own hand, pretending like you were touching each other as your moans travelled through the call across the world. But now you’re in the same room, and he is forced to touch himself. You don’t particularly like the idea, but his ego could use the punch for one time and besides, he’ll get what he deserves tomorrow night if he really plays the song.

“This is your last chance, Y/N,” he warms you, his hand moving to his crotch, palming himself through his pants and your mouth waters, but you keep a straight face.

“Well... to be so lonely…” you sing, grinning back at him, which just earns another grunt from him before he disappears in the bathroom.

He is definitely grumpy when he returns, you can’t tell for sure if he jerked himself off or not, the running water covered any other noise. You take a quick shower too and when you come out, he is out on the balcony, talking to someone on the phone as he leans against the railing. You just get under the covers, making yourself comfortable, listening to his muffled voice through the sliding glass door. Then you hear him get back, moving around the room until the mattress dips under you, his warm body pressing against yours from behind, His hand slides to your stomach, toying with the hem of your sleeping shirt.

“Babe?” he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

“Mmm.”

“Can I just… put it in?” he murmurs and you can feel him grow hard again. Well, if he took care of himself in the shower, he is one horny motherfucker for trying to go at it again. Turning your head to the side you smile at him sweetly.

“You can do more than that tomorrow, after I heard you sing the song.”

You feel him freeze and then sigh, rolling to his back, the warmth of his body disappearing from behind you. Turning around you cuddle to his side and pushing yourself up you smile down at him, proud of yourself for winning this game.

“But I still love you,” you hum, kissing his lips softly. “Do you love me?”

“I guess,” he sighs, but wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him tight as he closes his eyes.

The next morning while Harry is in the bathroom, you search up the girl who gave you her username and send her a quick message that tonight is going to be the night, but keep it a secret so others can be surprised when he plays the song. Macy, as you see on her profile writes you a lengthy reply thanking you for convincing him and ranting how much they love you. It’s sweet and you can’t wait to see the reactions when they finally get what they want.

Harry seems to be holding up his mad act, but you know it won’t last long. He still holds your hand, still makes sure you eat right and still kisses you all the time.

Right before he goes on stage, he pulls you in for one last kiss, but before he pulls back, he leans to your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

“I hope you know your ass will be red when I’m done with you tonight.”

A whimper slips through your lips and you need to clench your thighs together as he gives your ass a light smack, running off to get into that stupid box and get rolled under the stage. You mumble a soft fuck under your breath, but you’re excited to see him go all crazy on you.

The fans finally get what they wanted. When the opening accords of To Be So Lonely fill the arena, they lose their shit and Harry just stands behind his mic, smirking to himself. Of course, they scream that one line at him like there’s no tomorrow and you can’t help but laugh.

You know he is riled up, it’s written all over him and you know you’ll be ruined by the end of the day. But you don’t mind it.

You thought he would at least hold it together until you get back to the hotel, but oh boy, were you wrong! Because as soon as Harry finds you when he is off the stage, you see the fire in his eyes. He runs up to you, grabs your hand and starts pulling you after him to the dressing room.

“Harry, are you—“

You don’t get to finish, he pulls you into the room, slams the door closed and pushes you against it, his lips devouring you right away. His hips strain against yours and you can already feel his hard cock pushed against you.

“You got what you wanted? Are you proud of yourself?” he growls, a hand coming up to grab your jaw, keeping you in place, not that you’d ever push him away. No words come out of your mouth, you just can’t get yourself to talk, not when his other hand is already sliding into your pants, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“Answer me when I ask a question,” he grits through his teeth, his fingers pushing on your sensitive bud, making you moan from the sensation.

“Yes! Yes, I got what I wanted,” you choke out when his mouth sucks hard on your skin under your ear, for sure leaving a mark on you.

“Want to know what I want?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, legs turning into jelly as he is still working on your clit. Your panties are flooded, this very short sex ban wasn’t only hard on him. You missed out on the lazy morning sex and you couldn’t get your hands on him when he was parading around in the room in only his underwear.

“I want to fuck you until your legs give up and collapse onto me. I want to show you what you were missing last night.”

You gasp when you’re pulled away from the door and you vaguely process him bringing you to the vanity, helping you up until you’re sitting on the wooden top. He basically rips your shirt off of you, throwing you behind him before his hands start kneading your breasts in the black lacy bra you put on purposely, knowing well it’s one of his favorites.

He licks and bites down your neck and chest, not even bothering to unhook the bra, just tugging on the cups so your breasts spill out for him. Your legs wrap around his waist out of instinct and you grind against him, your chest heaving wildly from the way he sucks on your hardened nipples. You want the bra off though, so reaching behind you unclasp it and throw it to the side, an approving grunt leaving his throat as he keeps leaving marks on your breasts.

You can’t stay still as his mouth moves down on your stomach, his fingers working fast to unbutton your pants. He tugs them off of you easily along with your soaked panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him while he is still wearing his stage outfit, but it seems like he wants it off just as much as you do.

Dragging the suspenders off his shoulders, he moves his hands to tear the shirt open, but you stop him with the remaining of your responsible thoughts.

“No! Lambert will fucking kill you!” you chuckle, reaching up to unbutton the shirt carefully. He just breathes out heavily, letting you undress him as he works on his pants. The slacks pool at his feet by the time you’re done with the buttons and he rids himself of the shirt fast, pushing back between your legs, now only in his underwear.

“Always so thoughtful,” he murmurs, kissing you hard as his fingers dig into your waist, pulling you to the end of the vanity table. “But weren’t so thoughtful when you denied this from me.”

Without warning, two of his fingers push into you, curling inside, sending a shiver down your spine. His name tears out of you loud and clear as you gasp for air while Harry starts pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“Did you enjoy playing with me? Did you like making me suffer?”

“Harry!” you moan, your thighs starting to shake as your orgasm is building up rapidly.

“You were a little brat, you know that? I should punish you for it.”

You want to protest, you want to say you’re sorry, but you just can’t form the words, the only thing that leaves your mouth is his name over and over again. But right when you’re about to cum, he pulls back and all the air gets knocked out of your lungs.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum just yet. Now get on your knees,” he orders and you jump off fast, not even thinking for a second about obeying him. He has full control over you and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You eagerly pull his underwear down, his throbbing, hard cock springing free and your mouth waters at the sight, the head glistening from the precum. But before you could wrap your lips around him, he stops you, making you look up at him confused.

“No, I don’t want you to suck me,” he hums shaking his head, cupping your face in his hands. “I want to fuck that bratty mouth of yours so you know that your words have consequences.”

Fuck, he is so hot! You need to clench your thighs as a moan rips out of you.

“Stay still,” he orders, one hand on the base of his cock as he pushes himself into your warm, wet mouth, a whimper of your name slipping through his pink lips. Then both his hands come to cup your head and he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth.

Putting your hands on his thighs you try to keep as steady as possible, his head reaching the back of your throat every time he pushes into your mouth. Tears are stinging your eyes, but you don’t want him to stop. Looking up you see how much he is enjoying it, how you’re the only one who makes him feel this way and you can almost feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm again. The urge to touch yourself is strong, but you know he would punish you for that, he doesn’t like you touching yourself, unless he asks you to do it, so you just try to breathe and stay still just like he asked.

“Fuck, your mouth is perfect,” he growls, pushing in one last time, your nose touching his pelvis and he keeps himself there for a few heartbeats, until you start gagging. Then he pulls back, his whole dick glistening from your saliva and it’s such an exciting view, one you’ll never have enough of.

He helps you up, your knees are sore, but you couldn’t care less. Kissing you hard his hands squeeze your ass before he turns you around, bending you over the vanity and you push your ass up high instantly.

“And now…” he hums, his hand cupping your ass as he pushes his cock between the cheeks, sliding it back and forth a few times, making you whimper. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night.”

His hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, then he massages it gently before his palm meets the cheek again. Fuck, this feels so good and he is not even inside you yet.

“Harry,” you whine, your upper body pressing against the wooden surface as he keeps kneading your butt with no mercy. Then he bucks his hips back, just enough so his cock now slides between your soaking wet folds and he starts rocking himself against, teasing and edging you.

“What is it? Now you want my cock? You didn’t want it last night?”

“I did! I wanted it!”

“So you just chose to be a brat, letting me use my hands?”

You don’t answer, his tip is nudging at your clit every time he pushes forward and you clench your walls around nothing, you need to feel him inside you or you’ll go nuts.

“Just for your information, I didn’t jerk myself off last night. It was hard to resist, but I didn’t want anything else than your sweet pussy.”

“Then take it. It’s all yours, Harry!” you cry out and yelp again when he smacks your ass again.

“Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never want to play games with me,” he growls, grabbing the base of his cock and finally pushing inside you, both of you gasping from satisfaction. “Fuck, nothing feels like this, baby,” he breathes out, staying motionless for a few seconds, his cock buried balls deep inside you.

Then he grabs your hips and starts pounding into you so hard, your thighs keep hitting against the edge of the table and you need all your energy to keep yourself up. His stamina is impressive, he just gave a whole ass concert and now he is fucking you so hard, as if he’s been training for it his whole life. Fingers digging into your flesh, his hips smacking against your ass every time he thrusts inside you hard and fast.

“Are you close?” he pants and all you can do is nod eagerly. “Don’t cum yet. Don’t cum!”

“Harry! Please!” you beg, almost crying for relief.

“Not yet!” he barks and pulls out of you, the lack of his hardness inside you making you gasp. “Come on, baby. Just a little longer,” he murmurs, pulling you up from the table, he presses a kiss to your forehead and lips as he walks you to the sofa. He turns you to face him and you throw your arms around his neck like a little monkey, you just need to be close to him. He has edged you so close to your orgasm two times, you’re not sure you can take a second.

You hear voices coming from the other side of the door and for a moment you wonder if he locked the door, but when he kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, you forget about it instantly.

His hands find the back of your thighs and he picks you up easily as he sits down, making you straddle him, knees pushing into the soft cushion. His lips melt against yours, a tad bit softer than he has been treating you, but you love both sides of him equally. Strong hands run up and down your naked, sweaty back before one of them moves between the two of you, lining himself up with you and then he pulls you down, his cock filling you up again as you softly gasp against his mouth.

“Ride me. Wanna see you bounce on me,” he tells you.

You feel tired, like not much energy is left in your body, but you nod, mustering up everything you have to obey him. His hands grab onto your waist, guiding you in your first few movements as you roll your hips back and forth, up and down, riding him in his dimly lit dressing room, his thousands of fans still lingering around in the building probably. It excites you, knowing that so many others want him, ache for him, but you’re the only one he wants and needs.

Grabbing onto his broad shoulders you keep up a steady pace, bouncing on him, panting heavily and every time you feel like you’re too tired to continue, you see it in his eyes, the want, the desire, how in awe he is with you, like you’re the only person on this Earth. He leans forward and kisses your throat, collarbones before wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking and biting it to edge your senses.

“H, I’m close,” you moan, pulling his head up so you can kiss him.

“Wanna cum around my cock?”

“Yes! Please!”

He wraps his arms around you as he rises from the sofa and turning the two of you he lays you down, getting on top of you. It’s a small sofa, one of your legs is thrown over the back while the other one falls off of the seating just so he can get between your thighs, but when he starts pounding into you, bottoming out every time you forget about how uncomfortable it is.

“Cum for me. Let me feel your pussy tighten around my cock,” he grunts, kissing your hard, his tongue pushing past your lips.

A few more thrusts and you finally fall over the edge, coming so intensely, you can’t hold a scream back as you drag your nails down his back. You’re seeing stars, gasping for air as he follows you with his own relief, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mine. You’re all mine,” he grunts, so animalistic and raw as his thrusts become slower but even harder, his cock jerking inside you.

“Yes, I’m yours!” you breathe out, holding him tight as he rides the last waves of his orgasm until he comes to a stop, but still remains inside you.

You’re gone, melted into a puddle, barely able to move your limbs, but it feels so good. The thought of getting up from this sofa feels so painful, you just want to stay here, like this forever, even though your back is starting to hurt and your leg is kind of going numb.

You feel Harry’s lips gently kiss your shoulder before he pushes himself, up, lifting his weight off of you and sliding out of you at the same time. You must have whimpered unapprovingly at the feeling, because he kisses your lips softly.

“I know baby. Gonna take care of you,” he murmurs and you hear him move around the room, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

You feel a damp washcloth between your legs, he cleans you up gently not to hurt you since he knows how sensitive you are, especially after a round like this. It hurts to get your leg off of the back of the sofa, but you just need to. Pushing yourself up into a sitting position Harry returns, helping you up and as soon as you’re on your feet, he picks you up bridal style, carrying you to the shower where the water is already running.

You take a nice, hot shower together, Harry washes you with so much care and keeps kissing you murmuring sweet nothings to you. It always amazed you how dominant he can be during sex, but then he turns into this soft bundle of joy, taking good care of you, no matter what you did or said.

While you get dressed, you inspect your reddened butt in the mirror and you swear you see the outline of his hand on it. Walking up behind you he squats down and kisses the red marks, making you chuckle.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, regret glistening in his eyes.

“No. I would have told you on the spot,” you smile down at him. Grabbing you pants he helps you into them, caressing your bum over the fabric gently. He stands back up and cups your face in his hands, kissing you tenderly.

“I love you. But if you pull this shit on me again,” he warns, but can’t push his smirk down.

“I did it for your fans.”

“Then tell them it earned you a good fuck.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, pulling him down to kiss you again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

t amo cuti quiero ser tu mujer

cuti telling mac allister to ‘go home and cry’ 😭😭😭

out of this planet

RIPPED AND RUINED

A/N: i was dumb enough to fucking delete the original post of this fic so now its a repost so please if you liked or reblogged the prev one, do the same with this!! 🥺🥺🥺

WARNING: adult content

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

masterlist

Red and black tinted cotton pads are scattered on the bathroom counter as Harry finally finishes up washing his makeup off from tonight. His falsies are discarded in the little trash bin next to the toilet and he totally has a lot more respect towards women for putting up with those for the sake of a nice makeup look. They kept poking and tickling him during show, couldn’t wait to get rid of them.

He had so much fun tonight. Despite his hatred for Halloween, he had a great time, dressing up with his band and crew, seeing his fans go all out with their own costumes, it’s been such a wonderful evening.

When he is finished with washing his teeth he finally heads out, wearing only his briefs as he steps out of the bathroom.

“Hey, do you think that—“

His question quickly gets caught in his throat, long forgotten as soon as he lands his eyes on you, lying on the bed wearing the same red tights he wore tonight on stage, only that they look a thousand times better, though you would argue with that, his box on top of your head and… nothing else. Absolutely nothing.

“What do I think?” you hum teasingly, tilting your head to the side as you move a hand up your chest, your fingers dancing across your naked breasts, Harry’s mouth watering instantly at the sight of you.

You told him you’d steal the tights and the bow, it shouldn’t be a surprise to him, but he didn’t think it would happen tonight and like this, but he is not complaining. The red tights hug your curves just perfectly, coming up around your waist and he is already imagining rolling them down, revealing your naked and wet cunt underneath and the thought makes him go feral.

“I don’t know what you think, baby, but I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest bastard to walk this planet,” he huffs, making you giggle.

He walks over to the bed and you roll to your stomach, crossing your legs in the air as you rest your chin in your palms, blinking up at him with pretentious innocence all over your face. The hungry look you give him eyeing his crotch that’s now perfectly lined up with your face instantly makes the blood rush into his cock. His hand comes to cup your face, making you look up at him from under your thick lashes, his gaze scanning over the curve of your naked back and the way your ass is swelling under the fabric of the tights, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He runs his thumb across your cheek before moving it to your lips as they open in an instant. You suck on it, swirling your tongue against it and it earns you a mumbled fuck from Harry, sending shock waves down to your pussy.

“On your back, baby,” he orders, pulling his hand back and you’re quick to obey him. He climbs to the bed, grabbing your ankles to pull them apart so he can settle between your legs with you all spread out in front of him. Sitting back on his heels you let out a tiny whimper when you see his hard cock outlined through his briefs. His hands slowly run up the length of your legs, gently massaging them on the way up, taking his time to remember this sight for as long as he lives.

“Do you think Lambert would kill me if I ripped the tights?” he asks with a mischievous smirk on his face, his fingers dancing across your cunt, feeling the heat radiating from you.

“I think at this point he expects it, seeing how I ripped your pants from New York night one,” you huff back, remembering the mind-blowing sex that black suit gifted you with that night. Harry smirks, pleased with your answer as his hands move to the hem of the tights, slowly starting to roll them down your waist, but then he stops and before you could even process what’s happening he rips a huge role right between your legs, the cold air hitting your naked and dripping wet pussy.

“I barely even touched you and you’re already drenched,” he hums satisfied, leaning closer to you, blowing on your cunt softly that makes you whimper, greedy to be touched.

“Always, H. I’m always wet for you!”

“Because you’re my good girl,” he murmurs, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts drawing slow, lazy circles, taking his time to tease you, turn you into a whimpering mess under his touch with so little. “Look at you falling apart just by one little touch and I haven’t even had my mouth on you. Always so turned on for me, right?”

“Harry, please!” you gasp out as he drags his finger through your slick folds, teasing your opening but not pushing into you just yet.

“Please what, my love?”

“Please do something! Enough with the teasing!” you whine out, a smug grin tugging on his lips as he stares down at you.

“Always so needy,” he hums, getting onto his stomach, pushing your legs further apart before he finally presses a kiss to your clit, his tongue swirling against it before he sucks on it. You gasp out, a shiver running down your spine at the sensation, fingers tangling into his hair as you grind against his face.

“Yes! Oh my God! Yes, Harry!” you moan uncontrollably, your back arching and you’re having a hard time not moving around too much. You wouldn’t want to bother him as he eats you out so eagerly.

He returns to your clit with one hand, increasing the stimulation, while his other hand reaches up, cupping your breast, kneading and groping it, pinching your nipple. You cover his hands with yours and dragging it up to your lips you suck on two of his fingers and you feel him gasp against you at the warm feeling of your mouth around him.

“Fucking hell, that mouth of yours will be the death of me,” he groans as he sits back up to his heels, pulling you up before he discards his briefs, his rock hard cock springing free. You eagerly climb over to him, getting down onto your stomach, holding yourself up just enough to get your face lined up with his cock. Unlike him, you don’t tease him, not because you don’t want to but because you’re way too eager to get him into your mouth after what he just did between your legs.

Grabbing him by the base you lick his whole length up, wrapping your lips around his head, giving it a few gentle sucks before taking more of him in.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, bunching your hair in his hand to keep it out of your face as you bob your head up and down, taking as much of him as possible. “Fuck, your mouth is definitely second best thing I like to have my dick in after your sweet pussy.”

You moan at his words, your walls clenching around nothing as you think about how good it will feel to have him inside you very soon. Harry notices it, a hand sliding down your naked back, over your partially exposed bum thanks to the rip in the tights before he reaches between your legs, pushing two hands into you without a warning.

“Fuck!” you cry out, popping off of him, but he is quick to smack your butt for it.

“Don’t stop or I’ll stop too,” he warns you, and you get back to sucking him off faster than ever, feeling his fingers slip back into you as he starts pumping vigorously. It’s hard to focus on anything when he is completely ruining you and you haven’t even had his cock inside you. Well, not where you need him the most, because he is balls deep inside your mouth currently.

You try to keep it together for as long as possible, but you reach your breaking point soon, having him inside you turning into a matter of life or death at this point.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t!” you cry out getting up from your stomach, straddling his lap so fast and eagerly that the two of you fall back, but he doesn’t care, just wraps his arms around you, his lips attacking you as you grind against him, his cock moving between your dripping wet folds and every time the tip hits your clit you moan into his mouth. “H, I need you, please, fuck me already!” you beg as if your life was on the line.

“Y’need me to fuck your greedy pussy, hm? Want me to give it to you?”

“Yes! Please!” you gasp when you feel him poke at your entrance, but don’t slide into you just yet. He rolls the two of you until you’re lying on your back and he is weighing down on you, hips locked between your thighs as you curl your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass.

“Y’know I can’t say no to you, my love,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you hard, a hand reaching down between the two of you and as soon as he has himself lined up with you, he pushes into you swiftly, filling you up so good as his whole length gets buried inside you.

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh my God,” you gasp at the feeling, your walls tightening around him that makes him grunt before he starts thrusting into you fast and hard.

“You like that? You like having your boyfriend pound into you?”

“I fucking love it!” you whimper, fingers digging into his back, making sure to leave a few marks on him. He always goes feral about them in the morning when he sees them in the mirror, usually earning you a good morning fuck.

“Think about how thousands of girls had fantasies about these tights tonight, but you’re the only one getting fucked in them. How does that make you feel, hm? Do you like being my only one?”

“I love it, Harry! Makes me feel so fucking good!” you moan and cupping his face you pull him down for a kiss, your tongue pushing past his lips, melting together with his as he keeps up his rough thrusting.

“Only you can have me, I’m yours, Y/N. Are you mine? Who do you belong to, baby?”

“You! I’m all yours, Harry!”

“Then be a good girl and hold onto the headboard. Don’t want you to get hurt,” he murmurs, kissing one last kiss to your lips as he pulls away, sitting up, but keeping your legs wrapped around him as he starts fucking you from this new angle, his fingers digging into your hips, his greedy eyes watching your breasts bounce, your pretty lips that were wrapped around his dick just minutes ago forming an O shape as you keep moaning, hands plastered against the headboard to keep you from hitting your head against it since he is going so hard, the slapping noise of him railing into you filling the room mixed with the gasps, the whimpers and grunts.

Suddenly, he pulls back and you cry out at the feeling of being empty all of a sudden, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it. He manhandles you so easily, flipping you over to get you on all four, making you push your ass up so he can fuck you from behind. Your legs and arms feel weak as he thrusts into you mercilessly.

“I’m gonna buy a dozen more of these tights and ruin them all just like this,” he growls, hooking a finger into the waistband and making it snap against your sweaty skin.

“Harry, I’m close!” you warn him, the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach.

“I know baby, I can feel it,” he breathes out, an arm coming around so his fingers can reach your clit, adding to the already overwhelming feelings you’re going through.

“Oh my God! So good!” you scream, not able to hold yourself anymore. Your arms give up so you fall to the bed, your ass still up since Harry is holding you up, but you don’t stay like that for long, face pressed into the pillow. He leans forward, bringing his arms around your chest as he helps you up until you’re sitting on his lap, your back pressed up against his chest as he keeps thrusting into you. Reaching behind you grab onto him wherever you can to keep you steady and you’re just moments away from bursting.

“Let it go, baby. Wanna feel you tight around my dick, want to feel you cum hard.”

“I’m so close,” you breathe out, his hands snaking up to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading them, your senses are absolutely overloaded. You thought it’s not possible, but he goes even faster and your breath gets caught in your throat as your orgasm bursts inside you, setting you on fire as you keep screaming his name.

“Fuck, yes! I can feel you pulsing around me!” he whimpers and a moment later he cums as well, riding out his high along with you, filling you up so good, you want to milk him to the last drop.

Your movements slow down, he drags his thrusts out, his heaving chest melting against your back as you lean against him with your full weight. Your head falls back against his shoulder, giving him the chance to kiss up your neck and shoulder, nibbling gently on your sweaty skin as he is still moving inside you lazily, riding out the last waves of your orgasms.

“I love you, you’re fucking amazing,” he murmurs against your skin, one hand moving down to between your legs, gathering some of your juices mixed with his cum that leaked out of you, bringing his finger to his mouth as he sucks it clean and you can’t help the fucked out whimper that slips through your lips, a mischievous smile tugging on his perfect lips. “We taste so good, baby.”

“God, how do you have the energy to be sick and twisted after fucking the living shit out of me?” you scoff tiredly.

“I always have energy for that,” he smirks smugly.

He pulls out gently, helping you to lie on your back as he makes a quick trip to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he returns, he doesn’t have a towel with him like he usually does, but when he kneels up to the bed and takes the ruined tights off of you, it dawns on you what he is planning to do.

“No! Harry!” you gasp when he uses the expensive fabric to clean you up.

“What? It’s already ripped! Don’t worry, I’m not that sick to send it back to Lambert like this,” he chuckles at his own joke and you give him a wide-eyed look. Poor man would probably faint if he saw the tights completely ruined, covered in cum.

“Stop, you’re such a pig!” you snort, snacking his chest, but he grabs your hand and kisses your palm smirking down at you.

He throws the tights away and you force yourself to handle your business in the bathroom. When you return to the room, Harry is dressed in his briefs and an old t-shirt, holding another one in his hands for you. You let him help you put it on, pressing a kiss to your nose when he pulls the t-shirt over your head.

You get into bed, Harry pulling the covers over you, tugging you close to his side as you cuddle him, always wanting to be close to him after some intense fucking.

“I hope you know I didn’t joke about ordering more of them,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Oh, I know,” you huff. “I know you well enough, Harry Styles.”

“That you do,” he grins to himself, completely satisfied.

Thank you for reading! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

6.5: baby 》 series m.list

note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫

warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

//

Jungkook was afraid of this. 

From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.

He was addicted to you. 

It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time. 

For real. 

No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—

“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you. 

He was so thoughtful. 

Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.

Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you. 

Nothing makes you happier than this. 

“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish. 

His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.

Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.

It feels like it though. 

“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.

Impressive, you must admit.

Should you be mad at that? 

Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”

A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts. 

“How about a hi first?”

“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” 

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in. 

“Smells like you.”

“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”

He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”

You huff. “I was drunk.”

“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”

“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”

“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.” 

The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”

Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze. 

“Do it for me.”

You raise a brow. 

“Pardon?”

“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”

For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this. 

You’ve waited for this side of him. 

Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness. 

He likes this. 

Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused. 

“I thought I was going to—”

Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you. 

“Ooh my god—”

Then, he stops. 

He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?

“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.

It’s official: you hate him.

Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”

Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”

You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.

“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”

His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.

Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow. 

“Are you serious?”

With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”

To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.

Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”

“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”

“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”

You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”

Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”

A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh. 

“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”

“Gaslighter.”

He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”

“But it’s my pussy.”

“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”

You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.

“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.

“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”

“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“

You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay. 

“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”

You do as he says.

You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support. 

Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches. 

Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan. 

He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in. 

You can have this.

You can have him.

“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”

Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended. 

“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.

Are those stars?

You cum.

Messy, wet, and hard. 

Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky. 

“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”

Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”

“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”

Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”

“I hate losing.”

“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places. 

You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you. 

Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after. 

Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.

Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly. 

“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”

Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan. 

“Yummy.”

He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”

Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty. 

A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever. 

As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it. 

All of him. 

“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”

You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”

As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”

“Loser.”

He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”

You think about it. “Beg for it.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look. 

“You might cramp.” 

Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”

He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild. 

“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”

His question catches you by surprise.

“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”

“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face. 

“Cute,” you laugh. 

Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan. 

You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder. 

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper. 

“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.

“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”

“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.” 

“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”

He slaps your ass. 

“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”

“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.

“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”

“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”

“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”

“J-Jungkook!”

“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you. 

“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”

“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook!”

He smirks.  

Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.

He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”

Jungkook loses it. 

He fucking loses his mind.

Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”

And you do.

You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick. 

It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle. 

Holy fuck, this was such a workout.

Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5. 

You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you. 

After all that, finally, you two share a kiss. 

A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss. 

The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back. 

Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all. 

As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer. 

Every inch of you, he wants to devour. 

Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between. 

As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”

You roll your eyes. “Perv.” 

“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”

You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.” 

A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck. 

Sometimes. 

You miss him sometimes?

That’s a funny way of saying always. 

The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked. 

When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?

Not only that but—when did you… When has it…

When did this begin?

These feelings.

There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that? 

As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”

It startles you.

When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow. 

“I’m glad you came.”

“Pun intended?”

Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”

You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to. 

Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”

“What?” he panics. 

“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”

“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”

You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs. 

Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget. 

When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness. 

“Round two?” 

You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“Insanely hot?”

“Whatever you want.”

He isn’t sure what to do. 

You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race. 

He should just say it, right? It’s easy. 

Spit it out.

___, do you want to go out with me?

Or should he do a whole confession?

___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living. 

But when he opens his mouth to speak—

“Should we go downstairs? I need water.” 

He blinks. 

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”

Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so. 

“I’ll go out first.”

Your words cut him deeper than a knife. 

Right.

You two aren’t dating.

You two are just fucking—in secret, at that. 

“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”

Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”

He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness. 

“Can we hold hands?”

You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”

“But you said—”

“I was drunk!”

Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief. 

It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.

With you.

Lingering fingertips and all. 

As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.” 

He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex. 

You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight. 

“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”

“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”

“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”

Jungkook gawks at you. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”

You snort. “Did you even read the series—”

“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”

“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”

“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”

Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”

“___!”

You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear. 

Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile. 

“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.

“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”

Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”

“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”

“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.

You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. 

For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?

“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him. 

Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”

“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”

“To what? Party?”

“To be anywhere without you.”

“But I’m here.” You reason.

He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”

You do know. 

“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”

“___ baby!” 

Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you. 

“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him. 

“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”

Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.

“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.

You tilt your head. “What about?”

“Us.”

Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.

He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings. 

Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?

All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind. 

It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.

Not even a goodbye?

As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.

How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?

It aches.

It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak. 

No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you. 

He never asked you out.

“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back. 

“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”

Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”

Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”

“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest. 

He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”

Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.

“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”

Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry. 

“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.

Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room. 

You smile at him and wave. 

He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.

Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes. 

You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook. 

Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?

He hates it. 

Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him. 

“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”

It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.

In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.

And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.

SO GOOD

Omg we need another blurbs w harry crying during sex🤧🤧🤧

Now, I realized this was a bit too long but I wanted to add the whole playlist aspect. AND! The whole after sex freckle touching me and @harrystyleswatermelon-sugar gabbed about. But it will make an appearance in another no worries if I didn’t talk about it much.

Last night you had maybe mentioned you finished making a playlist. One for him, that you’ve been teasing all week. He was a pouty mess before bed, begging to hear it only for you to turn him down once more. He then decided to start making you one as you tried to go to bed; he swore he only had a few ideas and he’d put his bright ass phone done, but it was a solid twenty minutes of him sighing and making little cheery noises. “Harry!” You giggled. “Fucking go to bed or I won’t give it to you tomorrow when I wake up.” He gasped. “Tomorrow when ya’ wake up?” You nod. “Yes, the second I wake up.”

And you seriously shouldn’t have said that. He was awake as it neared 6 am, the sun just waking up as you were fast asleep next to him. He watched you with a small smile, watching you sleep beside him just as the sun began filling the room. He got out of bed, going to the bathroom and doing what he needed before brushing his teeth and shuffling back to bed. He rolled over on top of you, you groaned softly as he began peppering kisses on your face—it was like Christmas morning with how excited he was to listen to this playlist.

It was like volume thousand, you always make him playlists and he does the same, but you hadn’t given him one in over a month and he was dying for one. “Baby.” He pouted, mumbling into your skin as you tried to fight the flutter of your eyes. “Wake up.” He mumbled, kissing your jawline as you smashed your face into the pillow. “Baby!” He shouts and you groan. “What?” You choke out through a dry morning grog, the pain of tiredness raining over your eyes.

“Get up.” You laugh in a painful tone. “No...I am sleeping.” You mumble and he snakes his arms underneath your body, making you gasp and flutter your eyes open. “Get up.” He spits with a smile, lifting you off the bed so you two were sitting up. “Harry.” You whine and fall into his chest. “Why do I have to get up?” He cheers. “M’playlist love.” You begin fake crying into his chest, a giggle ends it. “Harry, what fucking time is it?” You look up at him with eyes barely open—he wasn’t gonna lie and say he felt bad for waking you. He ran his hand over the side of your face. “Nearly 6.” You gasp and he laughs. “So mean what the fuck.”

He steadies you so he can get off the bed. “Stay right there.” He points and you groan. “I plan on it.” He grabs your computer, opening it up and bluetoothing to the stereo in the bedroom. “Oh look, it’s already up.” He cheers with a smile, shaking his body as you yawn. “You’re acting like this is the best thing...I have ever made.” You admit just as he clicks play, “Should I have it on shuffle?” He turns to look at you, the tiredness raining over your face as you attempt to remember. “Uh, yes...order doesn’t matter on this one.” He smiles as you huff, swinging your legs over the bed to go to the bathroom as he turned it up.

You looked at yourself in the mirror with a slow blink. You rinsed your mouth with mouthwash before relieving yourself as he crawled into bed, listening with a smile. You walked back out with a sleepy face, you giggled watching him, before making your way into bed. It was a summer morning as the sun-filled the room and your playlist for him began filling the air.

You fell into his lap, your head resting on his thigh as he looked down at you. “You are so annoying.” You admitted through a slow breath. “Ya’ love me!” He cheered with his hands going into the air. You giggled, “I wanted morning sex and you woke me up too early so now I-” He shoves his hand in your face to stop you. “No, no, no. Ya’ not too tired.” Your brows furrow. “Well, I am.” He gasps and you hide your face in his thigh, giggling again. “I wanna fuck.” He whines and you pat his belly. “M’tired Har.” He looks down at you, your heavy eyes look back at him as the song changed to a lovey-dovey song that had his heart bursting. “Every time I hear this one I think of you.” You mumbled and he took in a breath.

You sat up with a small whine, you turned your head to him. You let out a soft moan through a pout. He smiled at you, grabbing your face for a morning kiss; slow and enticing. “Harry.” You mumbled, gulping softly. “M’gonna fuck you slow.” His thumb runs over your cheek as your jaw drops. “M’gonna fuck you right now.” He moves his hands to your sides, digging into the band of your underwear. He pulls them, signaling he wanted them off. You helped him out, pulling them down and throwing them somewhere in the room. He laughed at the sight of you, the sleepy smile, and the way you were giggling.

He watched as you brought your own hands to the band of his underwear, tugging softly. He lifted his hips as your hands pulled down his underwear, your hand went to his cock, pumping a few times as it hardened in your hand. You licked your lips, tilting your head at him. He couldn’t handle it, he grabbed your face and kissed you hard, the music adding to the mood of the morning. You moaned softly as he came off, wanting more. He pulled your thighs, bringing you on top of his lap; his cock teasing you and causing a gasp to fall from your lips. “Fuck.” You whimper watching as he brought his fingers to his mouth, wetting them and dropping them to your morning heat. “Shit.” You gasped when you felt his finger dance over you—you were rather wet already, no surprise.

He aligned his cock with your wetness, you slid down on him, your head falling back with another gasp. His hands sat under the hem of your shirt, gripping your sides as he begins thrusting into you as you slowly bounced on top of him. Your moans were soft and low, the morning haze in full effect as he watched your head roll on your shoulder. “Fuck.” You moaned, his hand ran up your side to meet the side of your face. He pulled you for a kiss as the two of you were slowly working each other up. You giggled at the song change, his ears picking up the sound that made his heart flutter. “Fucking love this song.” You smiled, kissing his neck. “I know.” You mumbled, leaving a wet kiss on his skin.

He rolled you over, his hands gripping you tight as you let out a sleepy giggle. You tended to be a giggly mess during morning sex and late-night sex, it was a 50/50 with it. “I love you.” You spat through a breathy laugh, it ended when he met your eyes that were finally open to dance with his. You hum as his one hand moves down your side, lifting your thigh as he began thrusting slowly. “Fuck Harry.” You furrowed your brows, his own jaw dropped at the feeling, and how wet you got. “Feels so good.” You pant under your breath, his hand gripping your thigh tightened at the words. “Harry.” You whine and he can’t help but smile at the sight of your face underneath him; a sleepy smile with furrowed brows as he was thrusting slow and deep and not to mention the music in the background.

It got him fucked, he was trying to listen to the music that you handpicked for him and trying to fuck you good without wanting to scream that he loved you. You moved your hand to grip his that was on your thigh, his slow pace picking up just a bit. You moaned at the feeling as he turned his head to the next song. “Fuck.” He spat with a breath as you chewed on your smirk—you loved when enjoyed a song you picked for him. It felt so good.

“Harry.” He hummed, shutting his eyes to take in the sound. “I love you.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Baby, look at me.” You spoke softly, your words sounding like magic next to the song. “I love you.” He dropped his head, your hand moved from his to run through his hair. “Harry.” He let out another breathy chuckle. “Fuck.” He giggled and you smiled. “I love you so much.” You mumbled just as he met your eyes; his just shy from glossy.

He fucked you good, real good. Slow and sensual with hard kisses and loud moans. “Fuck baby.” You whimper, chewing on your lip as he gets you closer to your orgasm; his just hitting. “Fuck.” He moans loudly, making you furrow your brows in enjoyment. “Shit.” He lets out a through a breath as he continues fucking you. “Harry.” You gasp, the sound of your moan loud as it filled his ears. “Fuck, I love you.” He groaned, kissing your cheek as you moaned his name again. “Fuck I know.” You whimper. “Love you so much.”

After your fuck, the music filled the air as you cleaned yourself up and he laid against the headboard listening, truly listening. You walked over with a smile just as it hit 7 am. “Hi.” You spoke just as you crawled on top of him; your leg over his side as your head rested on his shoulder. “Hi.” He smiled, you looked up at him, running your finger down his nose. You giggled. “Your freckles are out this morning.” He giggled back, just as the song changed to A Pillow Of Winds by Pink Floyd. “Fuck! I love this song.” You shouted, his eyes watching with awe as you met his. “What?” You giggled, tracing over his freckles again, your tongue danced over your lips as he fumbled with the words in his brain. “I jus’ love you so much...and this song.” You pinched his nose, gaining a few laughs from the both of you.

You caught your breath before leaving a soft kiss on his nose. His breath hitched at you the utter softness of the act. “Love you too.” You two laid there listening to Floyd until he sang along. “The early morning sounds, and I go down, sleepy time, and I lie. With my love by my side, and she's breathing low.”

-

I feel like this is kinda bad since I rushed it a bit, but it’s all good!

send me stuff here

😩😩😩

i’m so intrigued to know on what other occasions has wolfrry seen her tits

What’s Mine

prompt: ^^

warnings: abo, somewhat smutty

If you enjoy - please like, share, reblog, recommend, comment, & come talk to me on my inbox! 💝

Also I put out all this work for free!! So if you’re interested in supporting my work, considering donating to my kofi!

Enjoy 🐺

-

Harry is a gentleman(wolf) before anything else when it comes to YN - he’s unfairly and utterly besotted by her.

Though he lusts after her, daydream about knotting her full, and making her come until she has fat tears streaming down her face - he only wants that on her terms.

Three times are fully ingrained in Harry’s long-term memory - when he’d seen her bare chest and had to do everything in his power not to get her by the neck and sink his teeth in.

The first time is when they’re around eighteen, they’re at a lake with a decent amount of their friends, and in a high intensity game of chicken.

YN, of course, on Harry’s shoulders as they fight against Liam with Jenna on his - it’s all going fine until the opponent manages to shove YN (a bit too hard if we’re being honest) off and YN loses her balance.

As YN’s falling off, she realizes that her bikini top is not coming with her as it’s accidentally tangled between Jenna’s fingers.

When she resurfaces, she’s instantly panicking and Harry’s turned around to make sure she’s okay when his eyes drop to her chest for only a mere moment.

Without another thought, he tugs YN in him so her breasts are smushed against his chest - covering her modesty from a gaggle of people staring.

It’s an instant reaction from Harry to preserve her body from anyone but him - he won’t think about it until later when he’s alone, her pretty nipples, how her chest felt against him.

In the moment though, it wasn’t sexual, especially not when Harry lets out the most ear-shattering growl to alert his pack to back the fuck off, teeth bared and his shoulders postured in defensive.

All of his inferiors drop their gaze towards the water and back up to put space between the alpha and them before he goes for any of their necks.

His large hand snatches the scrap of nylon material from where it’s floating and quickly tugs it around her to cover her up once again.

“This is why you shouldn’t fuckin’ wear these,” He grumbled unhappily as he ties the flimsy strings around her neck, “Bloody indecent.”

YN has to push down a smile but it’s quickly interrupted by a sharp gasp when Harry lugs her over his shoulder and begins towards land, “S’time for a nap in the shade.”

She doesn’t bother fighting or squirming against him because she knows he’s upset - not at her but that possessive flares up and he has trouble controlling it.

They’d laid a blanket under a large oak, Harry deposits her on it before snagging his tee off the ground - doesn’t give YN an option when he shimmies over her head.

Harry’s radiating power and intimidation in his scent and stance as he sits down next to her, tucking up a towel to make a pillow for her to rest her head.

YN reaches out to tug Harry down, her hands weaving through his long locks to comb out the water-damp knots as he grumbles low in his chest in pleasure.

The possessiveness has been there since they were babies, it wasn’t something that YN was surprised by, and the pack knew Harry’s priorities when it came to his girl.

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t comment on it.

“Get so worked up, over anyone catching an eyeful,” YN murmurs quietly, the sun was still warm through the branches - drying her skin and making her the perfect temperature.

Harry’s eyes are stormy, notoriously the most grumpy alpha to exists, YN loves him deeply for it and is really the only person on earth who doesn’t fear him for it.

“Be quiet, mutt,” Harry rasps sharply but he nuzzles into to lay his scent all over the column of her neck and then murmurs, “Your body is sacred. It is not for anyone undeserving of seeing it. It’s in my blood to protect you.”

-

The next is when she’s tipsy, drank one too many long islands at a girls night out, and called Harry to come retrieve her from the bar.

The other girls waiting for rides, betas and omegas, step back in uncertainty when Harry parks at the curb and approaches with a stoic expression.

It was forgetting upon really anybody but YN that he was the Styles’ Pack’s Alpha. Royalty among them.

“H,” YN hums happily, she’d taken off her high heels, and had them looped around her wrist.

He isn’t pleased, that much is obvious as he lets out a low snarl at her but she doesn’t flinch, trots to the car and lets him help her in.

The others don’t miss how he ducks down, whispers something to her, and runs his thumb over her bottom lip before shutting the door.

He doesn’t give a second glance to the group before revving his engine and peeling away from the curb of the club.

When they get back to Harry’s home, he refuses to let her into bed without a shower - she reeked off others and cigarette smoke, her warm cinnamon scent nearly undetectable.

Harry waits patiently for her and as soon as she craw into bed in one of his shirts, he’s all over her - leaving his scent on every nook of her as she grumbles noncommittally about it.

“Hush up,” Harry gruffs against her skin, teeth occasionally nipping at tender areas of her neck and collarbones,“Maybe if you didn’t go out and lose my scent than we wouldn’t have to do this. Been good for your alpha.”

It has to be overstepping some line, but he’s referred to himself as her alpha since they were young, and YN couldn’t deny the shockwaves it sent down her spine.

“You’re being mean,” YN whines as she tilts her head up for him to have more space, his large hands at her hips, and she knows what the whine does to him.

“Enough,” Harry grunts abruptly, pulling back when he’s satisfied with his handiwork, “It’s time for you to get some sleep, mutt.”

“Do you love me?” She asks sleepily, flipping her hair to pull it into a sloppy bun so it doesn’t stick to her neck when she falls asleep.

“Don’t ask me stupid fucking questions,” He replies unamused as he knocks her hand away and pulls her hair up into a neater bun for her.

“Mm,” YN smiles at how edgy he is, somethings never change, and she’s shrugging out of Harry’s shirt without a second though.

Harry’s eyes widen substantially in confusion when her breasts are bared and a frustrated snarl vibrates low in his chest before she can even blink - she ignores it though.

Flips on her side away from him and demands, “Scratch my back, please. S’gonna help me fall asleep, pup.”

He has to take a few very deep breathes to calm his inner wolf, shouting at him to mate her, claim her, anything.

Harry lays days begrudgingly, his hand finding her back to begin scratching her back because she’s a needy puppy.

He wishes he could control the vibrato purr he emits to soothe her even more so, a sound explicitly saved for a mate but here they were.

After about five minutes, her breathing starts to even out, and he moves to grab her shirt but she lets out a affronted whimper, in a drowsy tone, “Keep scratching! M’not asleep yet. Don’t cheap out now.”

He growls meaninglessnessly at her because it doesn’t send one spike of fear through her for making demands at the most powerful alpha in their land.

“You shouldn’t make demands of an alpha,” Harry rasps menacingly as his nails begin to lightly scrape at the skin of her back, “You’re going to end up hurt.”

“You’d never hurt me,” YN replies sleepily but with a conviction that holds no room for argument, “I’ve seen you paint your hands with the blood of enemies and right after respond affectionately when I demand a cuddle.”

“Liar,” Harry can’t help but detest, even though they both know she isn’t lying, he still punishes her with a sharp nip to the back of her neck.

And when YN finally falls asleep, Harry thinks she holds out longer than usual just to keep getting her back scratched - Harry manages to tug the shirt back over her head, avoiding the temptation to look at where he most desired.

-

The third time, well it’s only a few weeks before they get together finally - whilst YN is still with that asshat of a boyfriend.

Harry had forgotten his wallet on her dresser the day prior, he had been busy with meetings all day, and he figured he’d swing by to grab it.

He lets himself into the apartment where he hears, no even moments later, the sweetest mewl of pleasure and he knows exactly who made that sound.

Harry doesn’t detect that anyone else is in the apartment but he also is in a bit of a haze because her honeyed arousal is drenching in and make him a bit stupid.

He doesn’t even know why he doesn’t make himself known or just fucking leave - the possessive quell in his throat has to make sure there isn’t someone in bed with her.

The door opens softly to YN, splayed out on her bed with a hand between her pretty, thick thighs, the other tweaking one of her perfectly beaded nipples, and the most astounding thing was that her nose was buried in one of Harry’s shirts.

To clarify, a shirt he’d worn the day before that he’s accidentally left in his hurry to get to work and had surely been soaked in his scent that she was currently using.

YN looks up at him with surprised eyes but not necessarily alarmed or scared - not enough for her to pull her hand away but instead huff out, “M’close.”

Like she couldn’t stop. He’d have to wait.

“Mutt, I-“ Harry growls, he shakes his head and shuts the door, stalking back to wait in the living room because he was using his last ounce of restraint not to claim her right then and there.

He has to press on his crotch to will his hardening cock to cut it the fuck out, knot threatening to begin to bulge at the mere scent of his mate - his friend.

YN appears mere minutes after, eyes still doe-like and wet, lips pumped up and swollen - that same fucking tee shirt that she had her nose buried in now draped on her body.

Harry should bite his tongue but he doesn’t.

“Peter really that shit in bed, pup? Just even a shirt with my scent on it is enough to have your cunt soaked and needy? Am I that good, pet?” Harry smirks with his teeth bared, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip as she instantly clenches her jaw at his comment.

“Fuck off,” YN grumbles mullishly, her cheeks warm with embarrassment, heart rate pumping a little faster but she still trots over to Harry and plops in his lap.

“No need to be embarrassed,” The wolf titters because he can read YN like an open book, “I want to be the only one who makes your pretty little nipples tight, have your clit throbbing for me. I fucking thrive on it.”

There isn’t any tension in the air, they know they’re meant for each other, she takes Harry’s large hand in her smaller one and toys with his fingers.

“I haven’t slept with Peter,” YN admits under her breath because she knows he’ll stick pick up on it with his advanced hearing.

“That’s my good girl,” Harry praises, a deep purr automatically starting as he begins to nuzzle his nose into her to lay down his scent.

It shouldn’t be like this but in moments like this, they both know it’s just a matter of time.

-

😋

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

🥺 so good

I wanna see gang yn tell Harry she’s pregnant- or see little moments between them while she’s pregnant, like finding out they’re having twins. 🥺

okay but I imagine this.

tw: violence, blood, weapons, smut

-

There is currently three dead men in their warehouse.

Harry has another one tied to a creaky old wooden chair, interrogating him with a sharp knife on his cheek, “Where the fuck is Richie? I know you killed one of my men.”

The man spits at Harry, leaning away from the blade, “Fuck you. I’m not talkin’.”

YN is watching casually from where she’s sitting on a countertop, a iced coffee in her hand, and she’s just admiring how hot her husband is.

His long hair is pulled up in a bun, his sharp jaw clenched, blood on his white shirt that’s clung a bit to his body with sweat and other fluids.

He’s so lean, muscular with bulging biceps, abs taut under his clothes. Her name tattooed proudly on his neck, little beads of sweat.

Harry slices down his cheek, tearing the skin open, “Tell me right now or I’m goin’ t’kill you. This is your last warning. I am about to show you why they call me Diablo,” Harry seethes, the knife dragging down to his neck.

He refuses to speak, Harry gets impatient and pulls out his weapon of choice - his desert eagle and delivers one resounding shot.

Harry looks unsympathetically at the rival gang members, his own men sitting back and letting the leader work.

The associates began to scuttle around to begin the clean up process.

Her husband tugs off his shirt and then shimmies out of his tight black jeans - tossing them carelessly by the bodies so his men can dispose of them.

Just in his tight briefs, his intricate morale of the depth of hell and the devil decorating his whole chest and stomach.

Then he’s trailing over to his wife, grabbing her jaw and searing their lips together for a long kiss as she runs a hand over his tensed abs.

It’s not the right moment, well it wouldn’t be for a normal couple but they weren’t any normal couple to start off with.

“I want to have a baby,” YN blurts out as her husband’s hands grip onto her thighs to pull her center against his.

Harry doesn’t look surprised often.

His mossy green eyes widen, puffy lips parting, as he searches her relax, open face, “You want me t’put a baby in you?”

She nods, feeling a nervous fluttering, they’d been married for three years - it had been on her mind a lot.

“If you aren’t - I know we’ve been talking about it. But if it’s not some-“ She stutters out as she observes Harry’s stoic face.

He leans forward, cupping her face, and telling her firmly, “I will give you whatever y’want, sweetheart. If y’want me to make y’a mommy - I’ll do it right now.”

By this point the men had dragged the bodies out to a nondescript van and were pouring industrial grade bleach on the tiled floor.

Harry turns around and booms, “Get the fuck out, right now.”

The associates pause, confused, Greg speaks, “But we just start-“

In true Harry form, he grabs his gun next to his wife, and fires at warning shot at their feet, “Fuck off or next time it’s going to be y’leg.”

They run out like there’s fire under their arses.

YN shouldn’t get wetter at that but she does.

He turns around after the leave, wastes no time to in yanking her shirt over her head, bra, and then roughly stripping off her legging, and panties

“Fuckin’ look at you, made you my wife, now m’make y’the mother of my babies,” Harry hisses when YN sneaks her hand in his briefs to tug his thick length out.

“Remember when we first met. You told me you never wanted to even have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. You told me you didn’t want kids,” YN murmurs as she pumps him with a firm grip.

Harry groans into her mouth, “Baby, jus’ like tha’. All that changed when I fell f’you.”

YN swipes her thumb over the tip before tugging the fabric down his narrow hips and guiding him right into where she’s so warm and ready for him.

“You told me love was made up by pathetic stupid people who were too dumb to realize it was a scam,” She reminds him, breath hitching when he stretches her perfectly.

-

As they’re waiting for drinks, Harry scoffs at a young couple kiss and cooing at each other on the other side of the way.

It was a really shady bar.

They were there to do business together - Harry and YN - nothing more than that.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” He shakes his head, swigging down his whiskey dry as soon as it’s placed in front of him - he doesn’t even flinch.

“They’re in love,” YN defends with a small smiles as she watches the man make the girl giggle with glee - just happiness.

“So y’a fucking idiot too?” Harry asks meanly, giving her a glance over with a pursed lip, “Guess y’beauty and no fuckin’ brains.”

“You have a real way with women, charmer,” She replies sarcastically, sipping her whiskey sour.

Harry laughs with a tinge of arrogance, “I don’t need charm. Any women and most men in this bar would fuck if they had the chance.”

“Well I’ll be one who won’t,” YN says haughtily.

His jaw clenches subtly, “Don’t be bitter, darling. Love is made up. It doesn’t exists. It’s for weak-minded little sheeps like you.”

—-

Harry takes a deep inhale, eyes dark as night, teeth bared as he tells her, “Our love isn’t what other average people have. I still believe all of that. My love f’you is s’strong I’d fuckin’ die for you this second.”

YN moans when he fucks in hard enough to make her skid back on the counter - he grips her harder and anchors her back down.

“D’you think any other man would do tha’ f’their wife? I mean truly do that? No. I’ve seen men let their wives die to save themselves,” Harry grits out, tugging her legs around his waist.

She is panting, not able to get a word out between breathes, he’s giving it to her so fucking well. Her nipples brushing against his sweaty chest, making it feel so much better.

Her grips her jaw hard, “Answer me.”

“Baby, I know, I know. I love you, please,” She begs loudly, whining when he wraps his hand around her neck.

“Open,” Harry orders, hand forcing her mouth open before spitting and then chasing it with his tongue into her mouth.

“H, m’coming.” YN warns him, pushing her hips into his until their skin is slapping and making noise in the room.

“Y’get so sweet when I’m fuckin’ you,” Harry praises, tweaking her nipple as she wets his cock even more than before.

He speeds up, sweat beading down his temple, he curses and grunts, “Gonna give y’a baby, give you anythin’.”

And when they finally slow to a halt, catching their breath, he whispers in a syrupy soft voice, “You’re my everything.”

THE SMUT THE FLUFF THE EVERYTHING I JUST LOVE CAMBOY!H SO SO MUCH HE IS HOT AF 😩 THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS SWEETHEART 🥺🥺🥺

gravity

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

—————

College sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was that easy to get her hooked.

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

And, god, he was just hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

But, god, she fucking hated her sometimes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, she was happy Ny was out.

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Have you seen my grade?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"There was a lab?"

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bye, (Y/N)!"

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like he somehow always did, he found her comment.

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: thank you h!!:)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: please daddy:(

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: all for you daddy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Feels s'fucking good, shit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: so pretty daddy

sunflowerssweetheart: i wanna see u cum so bad

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

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: im so close daddy i wanna cum with you

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

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

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

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

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

sunflowerssweetheart: yes pleas e daddy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, the screen cut to black.

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

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

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

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

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

God, she was so happy she found H.

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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