Overthinking

🥺 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.”

they re so fucking hot

“are y’not gonna let me finish my workout, little minx?” h is working out and the missus is horny seeing him all sweaty and his muscles flexing 🥵

gangrry.

-

YN was on the stationary bike in their home gym. Her legs were pushing the pedals with laziness due to being distracted.

Her husband was currently shirtless, only in a pair of short black athletic shorts and his trainers as he did bicep curls with large weights.

His skin was glistening, no clear space from his neck disappearing into his shorts of his naturally pale skin just tattoos.

“Focus, brat,” Harry makes deadly eye contact through the mirror as he watches her put no effort into the workout.

“Fuck off,” She replies sweetly, keeping her feet at the same, snails pace as she watches his back muscles flex tightly.

Harry grunts as he finishes out his last repetition of curls before dropping them heavily on the ground, and turning towards her.

“Y’not in here to try to fuck me. Y’need more stamina. If you had it, y’wouldn’t have a fucking black eye,” His shoulders are tight and a angry frown on his face.

YN softens, stopping her movement completely,“Stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault that guy punched me. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

Harry trails over, unhappy as he thumbs over the discolored skin, “It is m’fault. Y’my wife, the only person I care about protecting.”

“I think you made up for it in the fact that you literally murdered them right after they did it,” YN replies, grabbing at his wrist to kiss his palm.

It was so interesting when Harry melting into this loving, protective, vulnerable person that he’d never been around anyone but YN.

“Kill anyone f’you. I just can’t let anything ever happen t’you,” Harry says forcefully, “You’re my only reason.”

Harry didn’t hug before YN.

Harry would have pushed the person off with a scoff or tensed up like he was going to be attacked - he’d never understood the gesture.

But now he asked for hugs.

He felt comfort when he could wrap up his wife into a tight hug with his nose buried into the nice-smelling locks that adorn her.

He had also had to learn that physical closeness didn’t always mean sex. He could enjoy having someone close to him without the intent of more.

YN steps off the bike to embrace him, arms tight around his middle and digging her face into his strong pec.

He responds instantaneously, pulling her in as close as humanly possibly to him , and his strong arms coming to wrap around her shoulders.

“You can’t protect me from everything,” YN reminds him quietly, hands trailing underneath the band of his shorts to massage at his hips.

“Yes, I can,” Harry mutters back defensively with a sharp edge.

YN shakes her head, knows it’s a losing battle, and pulls back a little to make eye contact with his dark, irritated glare.

“I love you,” She murmurs simply, thumb coming to rub over her own name thats inked boldly on the side of his neck.

Harry’s heart rate jumps embarrassingly enough every time his wife tells him that, he responds truthfully, “y’the only thing on this earth I love.”

YN leans up to brush their lips, fingers slipping into the front of his shorts to be met with the hot, thick skin of his length.

She giggles girlishly, “Worst gang leader to every roam London street and he gets a hard on when his wife tells him she loves him.”

Harry chuckles darkly, reaching down to grip her wrist tightly, and move it to his cock to wrap around it.

“Y’the only one who gets this cock, s’you got to take care of it,” He hisses when she squeezes right underneath the tip with delicious pressure.

YN shrugs, “I don’t know…I was in the middle of an intense work out.”

“Mm, tha’ work out consisted of you daydreaming about how y’want me to fuck you. Now tell me, brat, wha’d you decide on?”

When YN’s avoids eye contact, gets a bit shy, and nibbles on her bottom lips - he fucking goes crazy for it.

His tone becomes more goading, encouraging, “C’mon, already know y’not gonna let me finish my workout. Tell me how y’picture me givin’ it t’you and I will. Always give it t’you like y’want.”

“Thought about you fucking me in front of the mirror,” YN’s becoming a bit breathless with it.

Before her, Harry never even knew what sexy was. He thought it was the girls who’d come right up to him in clubs and offer him a blowie outright.

The girls who would be begging to be choked and called him daddy during their first encounter were the norm.

But when he met YN who was more subtle, made Harry work to figure out what she wanted, and then instead of trying to impress him just enjoyed the pleasure he gave her.

Well…he can’t imagine ever being attracted to anyone but his wife ever again.

The girls at the clubs could go for hours, in different positions that didn’t even feel good or elicit pleasure, and they never shut up with the dirty talk.

He’d never been more attracted than when YN got whiny because her thighs were tired, when the only words out of her mouth weren’t dirty but little praises of adoration and love, and when she was so fucking aroused still but exhausted that she laid there lazily encouraging H to do all the work.

He would have never guessed those were his actual turn ons, not the generic ones all the girls have picked up off watching too much porn.

In no time, Harry was sat on the workout bench, facing the mirror, with YN riding him facing towards the mirror as well.

Her movements were slow from her previous bike exercise, and she was more focused on anything of just grinding instead of bouncing.

Her eyes focused on where they connect, his shaft occasionally peeking out just to be encased again. Harry was going to let her do this for as long as she wanted, his hand finding home in her sensitive nipples.

It wasn’t turning into the heated, high-intensity sex he was expecting but rather a slower, more intimate bonding that he secretly liked even more than the former.

“Baby, look at how y’pretty pussy takes me. Know s’your husband’s cock, hmm? Let’s me right in,” He coos, smirking when she squeaks at a hard tweak of her nipple.

He’d never had slow, nonrushed, emotions-attached sex before his wife.

Now he couldn’t get enough.

“H, please,” She whimpers, he knows what she wants.

“Ask me nicely, brat,” He hums in return, watching her thighs flex to keep herself balance, her breasts heaving as she breathes heavily.

“Touch me,” YN chirps sweetly, hand laying lightly over his when he finds her swollen bud - her eyes hazily focused on where they’re joint.

“Tha’s it, did it proper. Good job,” He praises when he feels her tense up around him, walls hugging him tightly as her whines turn into beautiful moans.

Harry can’t help but snicker when she goes dead weight after she rides out her release, leaving Harry to do all the work as he sits up and pounds up into her.

“Selfish little brat.”

But there is a disgusting amount of fondness laced into the insult as he smears kisses on her shoulders and comes himself.

i adore this.

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

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

this is just something else oh god i love them sm

I know you've written about aster y/n's birthday but what about Harry's birthday. I'm sure she'd surprise him with some sexy but cute lingerie.

would u ever write another smutty aster blurb with aloooot of daddy kink and harry is lowkey rough but she likes it?

how do u feel about aster getting a little rough in bed? I know they’re known for making love but I feel like you could still make it intimate

wordcount: 29.5k+

—————

"Harry, stop! I'm trying to ask you a question!"

(Y/N)'s command was more than lacking in conviction as she wheezed it through bouts of giggles. Despite her half-hearted request, Harry didn't stop his attack on the soft curves of her sides for even a second, his fingers digging in tickling runs over the sensitive skin. As he lent over her, chest bare with his tattoos on display, his hair hung around them like a curtain as if the strands could offer an extra layer of privacy in the middle of his darkened bedroom. 

"A question that y'already know the answer to," Harry sung, teasing her over the sound of her stilted laughter. If he wasn't careful, she was going to lose a lung with the way she sucked in oxygen only to pump it out a moment later under duress. 

"Pl-Please! I can't breathe!" (Y/N) squeaked. Begging didn't quite have the same effect through a giggling smile, though, she was learning. 

"But y'look so pretty laughing like this," Harry crooned, hovering closer above her, "Why should I stop?" 

Fitting her arms around his shoulders, (Y/N) tried her final strategy. She clung to him like a koala, hoping to somehow disarm him or even squish his hands between their bodies to make him immobile. In the end, when her form was pressed to his, it worked as the perfect distraction. Harry couldn't stop himself before he was moving instinctively and wrapping his arms around her to hold her as she wrapped around him like a vine. She panted in his ear, struggling to catch her breath as he rolled them to have (Y/N) lay atop his chest with their legs tangled. 

"Thank you," she peeped between gasps, feeling flush after the tirade a single question had brought on. 

Harry, with his arms wrapped tightly around her middle and his face tucked into her neck, whispered, "I didn't hurt you or anything, right?" 

She was quick to shake her head at his words, the movement stilted in her own position with her face in his shoulder. "No, just couldn't breathe for a little. I know you were only playing, it's okay." 

Letting out a deep breath, he flexed his hold on her in a tight pulse before turning to press a kiss to her hairline. His lips lingered on her skin, the cool sliver of his lip ring a bright spot against (Y/N)'s heated skin. 

A beat of silence passed, (Y/N) melting in his old before she burst with the same question that had prompted Harry's play wrestling. 

"So... You never really answered me," she drawled, hoping her hidden position in his chest would shield her if he decided he wanted to play around again, "What do you want for your birthday?" 

Harry sighed, his breath fanning through her hair. "Lovebug," he started, amusement and exasperation mingling in his tone, "I did answer you. I don't want anything, you know that. I only want you." 

(Y/N) held back a hmph. What a lame answer. 

"But you already have me." 

"I know," his classic lopsided smile audible in his words, "I have you every night."

A heat raised to (Y/N)'s cheeks that she was sure he felt against his chest. Despite the fact it was clear he had her last night with the minimal amounts of clothing on both of them—(Y/N) in only his shirt and Harry with boxers slung low on his hips—and the mess of sheets and blankets that wasn't just from the mess of hands Harry woke her up with, he hadn't needed to say it like that.  

"But—Harry, I—"(Y/N) floundered, unable to find her tongue through her heart lodged in her throat. 

His laughter rumbled his chest underneath her, the sound ringing close to (Y/N)'s ears. "You're so cute, baby." 

Though her mouth was now dry and her heart pulsed at his mumbled compliment, (Y/N) tried again, "B-but, I'm not a real present. I want to get you something nice like you always do for me." 

Harry finally reared back from the home he made in her shoulder, forcing her to pull back and fall under his observing gaze. The lack of black kohl around his lashes did nothing to soften the intensity of his eye contact, though the moss color of his irises were undeniably tender as they took her in. The lip ring she was very familiar with glinted in the low light that filtered through the cracks in his curtains, a matching hoop to the black ring pierced through his nose. All around him, his hair fanned out in twisting curls, his own form of a messy halo though he had dubbed her to be the angel between them. 

It was moments like these, when she had an unobstructed view of him—of the love of her life—that she couldn't help but be grateful for everything that happened before they met. If her parents had raised her differently, if she hadn't grown to be the person she was now, who knows if she ever would have had this? Had him? 

No matter how many times he embarrassed her with his flirty words or tickled her until her breath was stolen and tears entered her eyes, she wouldn't trade a single second of it. 

"I really don't need anything, darling, I promise. 'M not talking shit when I say you're m'present. That's enough for me. I don't need anything else when I've got you." His voice came out in a croon between them, as if he were sharing a secret only to be heard by her. 

(Y/N) felt her features round out at his words, softening the lines and creases. Her lips curved into a gentle line on her face, tender as his eyes. 

"Are you sure?" she pressed, settling her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him.

"'M sure, love," he said, craning his neck to press a delicate kiss to her nose, "Jus' want y'to spend the day with me, that'll be enough for me."

As (Y/N) melted into his hold, feeling every bit of his warmth through her thin top, she liked that she was enough for him.  

Still, she was going to ask Mitch if there was anything Harry mentioned that he wanted.

—————

Waiting for the waffle maker to beep, (Y/N) did her best to blink the sleep crust from her eyes. How Harry was able to do this every morning without fail was beyond her. Breakfast was nice and all, but sleep was something she savored more than any food that was served before ten a.m.. 

But, this was for Harry, she reminded herself. This whole seven a.m. wakeup and padding across the cold floor in bare feet, was for Harry. Today was his birthday—the first birthday of his that they were spending together—and she was determined to do any and everything she could to make this day special for him. Though she ultimately decided to stick to his request of no presents (mostly, it had been because when she had consulted Mitch, and he had offered her the same answers that Harry had given her; that He said he didn't want anything and hadn't dropped any hints to indicate otherwise), she did have a few tricks up her sleeve that she was going to utilize to the best of her ability. 

If he wanted her as his gift, she was going to be the best little present she could be. 

From the corner of her eye, the bouquet of flowers she had picked up and braved the world for before eight o'clock caught her attention. It wasn't exactly a traditional present, but he got her flowers all the time. She hoped he liked the arrangement, even if there was an extra smattering of pink baby's breath dotted through out upon her request. 

The waffle maker beeped a little too loud for the early morning, making (Y/N) jump in her spot. A heavy sigh was sucked in through her nose, hoping the vanilla scented oxygen would have a hand in hopefully waking her up. Plating the crispy waffle, (Y/N) reached for the few fixings she had grabbed after spooning the batter into he maker. Some special vanilla infused butter Harry had found on one of his grocery trips was smeared on top before a couple of spoonfuls of split raspberries were dotted across. Instead of syrup, (Y/N) added a drizzling of honey to settle in the punched out squares of the waffle, something she hoped he would appreciate since they were out of the regular syrup after he and Mitch had a long night filled with the munchies a couple of days ago. The finishing touch came in the form of a yellow and white striped birthday candle shoved right in the middle.

Now, she had to hope he hadn't somehow woken up through the minimum amount of noise she made all morning and surprise him with his birthday breakfast. 

Balancing the plate in her hands, one of Harry's lighters tucked away in the pocket of her (his) hoodie, (Y/N) danced around Evie as she made her way to the bedroom. The kitten seemed just as excited to wish Harry a happy birthday it seemed (and to probably get bits and pieces of the waffle that (Y/N) knew she would cave and hand out like treats). 

Evie let out a chirping meow as they approached the door, her voice a bright squeak in the middle of the quiet, to which (Y/N) shushed her for. "Not yet, Evie, we'll sing in a minute when he wakes up," she murmured, carefully twisting the doorknob and entering the bedroom she so missed when she had been out and about.

Just as she hoped, Harry was still snug in bed. His head was cushioned by the black satin cased pillow she had done her part to convince him was good for his hair and skin, all the while hugging the one she had slept on and later replaced her own form with when she crept out early that morning. His chest was bare through the black bedding was tugged high to reach the top of his shoulder and shield him from the chill of sleeping alone. His lashes curled and touched the very height of his cheekbones, a crease running along his cheek where he had laid on the pillow wrong, a small gap parting his lips as he breathed in even, deep paces. 

(Y/N) beamed at the sight, her heart thumping in her chest and lungs squeezing as the butterflies in her tummy flew high up. This was a rare sight for her, seeing him asleep. Unless she somehow beat him out and stayed up later than him or managed to wake up before the sun, he was the one that got the view of her sleep-softened form. 

She carefully stepped over the floorboards, aware of Evie skating between her feet and racing her to the bed's edge. While (Y/N) placed the waffle stacked plate on her bedside table (Harry had bought another one soon after he gave her a key to his place, never really saying anything about it other than that she could start leaving some of her stuff there overnight if she wanted), Evie jumped up on the bed and sat close to her dad's face with purrs rumbling through her chest. 

Emulating the kitten, (Y/N) climbed up the bed and sat next to where Harry laid with her legs tucked underneath her. She reached a gentle hand out and brushed Harry's curls from his forehead, fingertips lingering over his skin. "Harry," she crooned, settling a delicate hand on his shoulder, "Harry, wake up." 

A short grunt was all she received in response before he attempted to roll over and smush his face in the pillow that had taken her place in his arms. 

"Harry, no, it's your birthday and I made you breakfast. Wake up, please, H," she tried again, shaking him gently with her grip on his tattooed shoulder. 

Awareness crept into the edges of Harry's features, his breathing breaking the even pace he had curated while his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "(YN)?" he grumbled, voice deep and graveled as he breathed her name.

"Happy birthday, Harry," she whispered, shuffling closer to him with the bedsheets bunching underneath her. She chanced a small kiss to he round of his shoulder, stamping her lips atop the cursive A she now knew represented his mother's initial. 

A lopsided smile plucked at the corner of Harry's lips though he kept his eyes lidded. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, "Is that what's got y'up so early?" 

"Mhm," (Y/N) phummed, absently petting Evie as the kitten made her way to stand on the pillow by Harry's head, her purring growing in volume as she searched for his attention. "I made you breakfast and everything." 

This finally drew a slow blink of Harry's eyes, opening just a crack as he gazed up at her. "You did?" 

An eager nod of her head tossed the stray pieces of hair that fell from her bun into flutter around her face. "I made you waffles with all of your favorite things—but I forgot to grab syrup at the store so I used honey, instead." 

The lopsided curve bloomed into a full smile now as Harry listened to her. Rolling onto his back and effectively displacing Evie from her perch, he stretched his arms high above his head and let the covers fall to his middle. His eyes were sleep hooded even as he fully awoke, laid up in the soft sheets that tumbled closer to his waist the more he moved, allowing the full of his bare chest to be on display. He gazed at her from his spot, lazily dragging his eyes over her form as he noted her borrowed shirt and sleep mussed hair. She felt both exposed and safe under his gaze; he saw everything in her, she could do nothing to hide even a detail, but she also knew he would never love her any less because of anything he found. 

Before (Y/N)'s thumping heart could fly her off the bed, she reached for his breakfast plate and the almost forgotten lighter she had set next to it. Evie scurried to her side now that the food was close, reaching to the top of her tiny toes in an effort to catch a sniff of what she was perceiving as her own meal. 

"Even put a candle in it?" Harry murmured, shuffling to an upright position with his back against the headboard, "You're too sweet, lovebug." 

(Y/N) sang him a quiet happy birthday through a tender smile and flushed cheeks, aware of his gaze on her as she click, click, clicked his lighter to get it to ignite. By the time she finished the short song, her smile had tugged into a frown as she still hadn't been able to get the flame going on the tip of the lighter. A quiet chuckle could be heard from a cross her, Harry's lips in a crooked grin as he reached for her hand. 

"Let me try, baby," he said, warming her hand with his for a lingering second before taking the lighter from her fingers. It took him a single try to ignite the flame before he took it to the wick. 

"Thank you," she peeped, feeling a bit guilty that she ruined his big moment to make a wish and made him do some of the work for his own birthday surprise, "Sorry." 

Harry was quick to shake his head at her mumbled words, "Don't be sorry, nothing wrong with needing a little help. Now, c'mere and be very careful, yeah?" 

He patted his lap with a palm, eyes dropping to the open flame on the waffles as she shuffled over to sit as instructed. Placing his palms on her hips, he helped her with the transition, careful of the plate in her hands as he maneuvered her to sit comfortably atop him. 

"Do you want me to sing again?" (Y/N) murmured once she was situated, her eyes fixed to the wobbling flame. 

A half smile allowed only a single dimple to dent Harry's cheek, a quick shake of his head given in response. "No, baby, y'don't have to. 'M sure m'wish will turn out just fine anyway." 

His gaze lingered over her for a moment as he mentioned his wish, (Y/N)'s skin feeling warm as she noted the path his eyes took down the neckline and slouching shoulder of her borrowed top. Delivering a squeeze to her hips, Harry sucked in a breath before shuttering his eyes and blowing out the slowly shortening candle, the drips of wax falling into a pool of honey (Y/N) was going to need to somehow fish out before Harry took a bite. The doused flame was replaced with the phantom smoke whirling between them. The haze worked as a filter over Harry's features, speared by shards of sunlight breaching the cover of the curtains. 

When he looked like this, she could only describe him as an angel—a miracle. To think this was just the first of his birthdays they would get to enjoy together, with the rest of their lives ahead of them. Just the idea made (Y/N)'s heart hurt and tummy twist into a cocoon for another swarm of butterflies to claim. 

"What did you wish for?" (Y/N) asked, lowering the plate to sit on her lap between them. 

"You know I can't tell you that," Harry nudged her, an amused tilt to his tone, "Nosy girl." 

The corner of her lips tilted in a shy smile, her gaze dropping to the tattoos inked over his collarbones. "Will you tell me if it comes true, then?" 

Her request earned her a kiss on her cheek, the imprint of his lips warming her skin. "I promise, darling," he crooned, his hands on her hips pulsing before joining her gaze on his birthday feast, "Ready to eat with me?" 

"Oh, right," (Y/N) chirped at the reminder, plucking the candle from the waffle to lay on a paper towel she brought along to work as a napkin on the side table. She shifted to climb off of Harry's lap, giving him space, before she was stopped with the grip on her hips. 

"Where do y'think you're going?" 

Brows pinching in the middle, (Y/N) canted her head as she looked to him. "I thought you said you wanted to eat." 

"With you," Harry cemented, ducking his head to be level with her, "So you've got to stay right where y'are." 

"I only brought one fork, though." 

"Didn't know y'were so scared of m'cooties," Harry teased, plucking the utensil from the edge of the plate and cutting into the confection. A perfect bite with a pool of honey in the cube and a half of a raspberry tinting the waffle red was cut away and scooped onto the prongs. His remaining hand on her side squeezed, "Open for me." 

(Y/N) did as told with a flush in her cheeks. Wasn't she supposed to be doting on him today? Since when had her romantic plan of a surprise breakfast in bed devolved into Harry feeding her his birthday surprise? 

He raised his brows as she chewed, cutting off a piece for himself with lazy movements. "Good?" 

Her response came in the form of a hummed mhm, a little too shy to speak in that moment. 

Harry looked a little too pleased with himself as he took his own bite, praises for her simplistic cooking following soon after. He didn't mind sharing half of his breakfast with her, cutting off one bite for her before scooping his own up. He was quiet as they ate, asking her how her morning went without him and if she had any dreams she wanted to share (she'd had one last night where they were driving around aimlessly and Harry wouldn't ask for directions no matter how many times she told him she didn't know how to get to Greenland without an airplane). 

All the while, his attention was very lovingly and liberally served to her in the form of tender eyes and soft smiles. Soft lips kissed away dots of honey that had escaped her mouth and shared the sweetness of the vanilla butter with her in between bites. He was acting as if it were her birthday all over again, no matter the small mentions she made about how he wanted to spend his birthday and if Mitch had anything planned for him that night (the answer was no, as she had learned, Mitch took the wise route of giving Harry a card and a hug last night before going to the apartment for the weekend, leaving he and (Y/N) alone for the next forty-eight hours). 

It was when (Y/N) was rinsing the plate in the kitchen, readying it to be put in the dishwasher while Harry fawned over his bouquet of flowers, that she decided what the rest of the day was going to look like. No matter how hard he tried to squirm out of today, she was going to ensure he had the best birthday ever. 

—————

Harry was officially the king of squirming out of his birthday. All he needed was a crown.

Other than a few phone calls from his family and the boys at the shop, accompanied by texts interspersed through the day, Harry hadn't acknowledged much of his birthday. A friend of his even shared the same birthday and he had called her first and shared his happy wishes for her before he even admitted that yes it was his birthday too, and yes he was having a wonderful day, thank you. 

(Y/N) even managed to take him out (fighting off an afternoon nap especially with the early morning still hanging over her), and no matter which shop or boutique they went to, Harry managed to find something he told her made him think of her and that she should have. She turned down every proposition, but still, it made her nervous she wasn't putting enough emphasis on him. Even when she took him to an art supply store that she had no business being in given the state of the stick figures she doodled in Harry's sketchbook, hard pressed to get him something he could use—even if it was for work—he still managed to find a carton of colored pencils filled with exclusively pink and rose shades that he told her she could keep at the shop and play around with when she was waiting on him on his late paperwork nights. 

"Harry," she finally whined when they were huddled in the back of a record store, Harry on a mission to find a colored pressing of one of her favorite albums they could play tonight on his record player, "Stop." 

Halting in his tracks, Harry's hand still wrapped in hers, he looked at her with raised brows over the dark sunglasses he hadn't bothered to pull from his face in favor of keeping his hand in hers. "What?" 

"Today's supposed to be about you," she said, somewhat petulantly, fighting the pout that threatened the stern set in her features, "Why are you trying to do all of this stuff for me?" 

(Y/N) could already picture the intensity of his green eyes under the shades as he pursed his lips, the very edges of his brows shaping into a pinch she could see around the frames. "I know," he started, "That's why I was doing all of this."

The first crack in her firm facade came in the form of knitted brows as she gazed up at him, feeling the urge to nervously pick at her nails, a habit Harry was working with her to break so she didn't constantly mess with her manicures. "What?"

An easy smile spread on Harry face, his attention falling back to the cartons and cartons of records stacked around them, fingers thumbing through the alphabetized categories. "When we left, y'said it was m'birthday so we were doing whatever I wanted—whatever made me happy right?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head quietly beside him, following along to whatever aisle he wandered down. 

"I like taking care of you, love, you know that," he said simply, flexing his fingers between hers, "So, doing all these little things for you make me happy. Whenever you're happy, I am, too. That's all 'm trying to do today." 

"But," (Y/N) sputtered, unsure how to get around his logic, "W-We're going to your favorite places; you're supposed to find things you like so I can buy them for you." 

Harry gave her simple nod, sliding out a record that she'd been searching for since it went out of stock online months ago. She tried her best to hide the perk in her demeanor when she saw the cover, the blue tinted silver shining in the light. She knew she failed when he tucked the vinyl under his other arm. 

"I am finding stuff I like, but 'm having more fun this way. Everywhere we go is m'favorite place when 'm with you." 

With her resolve now paper thin, (Y/N) used what was left of her conviction, "I don't know, H. Are you sure?" 

That caused a small pause in his walk. He turned to look at her, finally pushing his sunglasses to sit atop is head and push back his curls like a headband. "Trust me, baby, yeah? 'M very sure about this." 

Her eyes flicked to the record under his arm. "Promise?" 

A tender smile tugged at his lips, the curve going lopsided with only a single dimple denting into his cheek. "I promise." 

(Y/N) let out a small okay next to him, her smile facing the ground as she laid her attention at their feet. Whether or not this was another ploy to squirm out of his birthday, she had to trust him, right? 

Besides, she still had the flowers she left him at home and the dinner she had planned for tonight. And, her agenda for after dinner she hoped went on without a hitch. 

So, she'd let him walk her around a record store, picking out things he knew she liked when she knew there was still another present waiting for him at home.

—————

"First y'make me breakfast, then I see y'brought me flowers, and now you're getting dinner delivered? Darling, I think 'm in love with you." 

Harry's words were stamped on the back of (Y/N)'s neck as she hung up the phone with Little House, their favorite Chinese takeaway spot and the choice of tradition for any special occasion between them. He'd come back from changing in his bedroom to find her on the phone, ordering their dinner when he had rounded behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle in a loose hug as she spoke. She was still fairly anxious when it came to making calls like that, always worried she'd order the wrong thing or mess up her words and hear a snicker on the other end (she knew those were silly little fears that meant next to nothing, but they still poked and prodded at her from the back of her mind), especially since Harry usually took on the responsibility of ordering for them like that, so his presence was more than comforting. His declaration of love after pressing the red button to end the call was like her reward for her troubles. 

"I love you, too, H," she murmured, voice soft as she laid her arms over his and squeezed herself against his chest, "I know today hasn't been the most exciting birthday, but I really hope you've had a good time." 

His smile could be felt in the crook of her neck as Harry shifted his hold on her to grab at the soft of her waist. (Y/N) allowed herself to be pulled wherever Harry wanted her, staying pliant as she was turned to face him with her arms and phone tucked between their chests. His smile was tender as he gazed down at her, the softness of the curve rivaled only by the cushy moss coloring of his eyes. His hands were splayed over the small of her back, pinkies dipping into the dimples at the bottom of her spine. 

"This is the best birthday I've ever had, you know that," he cooed, "I love jus' being with you. I don't need loads of presents or parties or whatever y'think I need, I jus' want to spend time with you. And, I think 's special enough that y'didn't nap today and instead watched that entire documentary with me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help herself but fall into his chest, tucking her head under his chin and face in his neck. Though this was how they'd spent most of the afternoon, tangled together on the couch with whatever show or movie Harry wanted to watch playing on the television, it hadn't gotten old. The feel of his hands warming her back and the tickle of his curls brushing her nose was more than comforting, all the while being encompassed in his scent. As much as today was about him, this was definitely something she considered a gift. 

"That was pretty hard, I can't lie," (Y/N) mumbled, a small smile forming on her lips as she spoke. It really was the truth, anyway; it had been Harry who had pointed out how sleepy she became no matter what film or program was put on the T.V. after spending the morning with him, her being the first to fall asleep between the two without fail, even when she promised she'd watch the whole thing.

A lopsided smile curved over his features, a single dimple denting into his cheek as his tender gaze traced her face. "'M sure it was, baby," he crooned, "'M proud of y'for sticking through it." 

Wiggling her arms out from between them, (Y/N) disregarded her phone on the counter beside them before placing her hands on either side of Harry's jaw, cupping the sharp line in her palms. Her fingertips inched into the very edge of his hairline, his curls loose and grazing his collarbones. 

This was the longest she had ever seen his hair, and she loved it. The silken curls were her favorite things to play with anyway, especially when it was Harry who was having a hard time getting to sleep, and the added length made it all that much more enticing to run her fingers through. 

That was why she couldn't help herself before moving one of her hands from his jaw, brushing her fingers through the strands and tucking them out of his face. She curled his hair behind his ear, allowing the low light glowing through the kitchen to dance over the side of his face and touch the dark ink etched into his neck. She could feel his eyes on her as she indulged herself and glazed her eyes over the planes of his face and the highpoints of his features. When her eyes trailed over his neck, it was the blank spots that had stood out to her the most compared to the black ink she was so familiar with.

He had told her once, late at night when he was talking her to sleep after they'd watched a scary movie, that he'd been wanting to get a tattoo dedicated to her. A pair of tiny angel wings he'd had in mind, the design small enough to fit somewhere on his chest or even his neck, he'd said. Now, whenever she thought to look, (Y/N) found herself pursuing the blank patches of skin that she might find one day filled with angel wings that she'd know were just for her. 

"What are y'thinking about, baby?" 

The sound of his voice and the bob of his Adam's apple in Harry's throat pulled (Y/N)'s attention back to his face. She shook her head, a shy smile on her lips at being caught despite the fact she had so blatantly looked him over. "Nothing." 

In true Harry fashion, he delicately pried as he dipped his head and nudged his nose against hers. "You've gotta tell me now, darling. Can't keep secrets when y'smile like that, 's not fair." 

The hand that she had brushed his hair back with, dropped to trace a cautious fingertip over the cords of his neck down to the neckline of his top, very aware of the warmth of his skin and his eyes that documented her every move. "It was just..." she trailed off, unsure of her own words, "Remember that time you said you wanted to get a tattoo for me? The angel wings and all?"

A slowly curling smile took home on Harry's lips. "Mhm." 

"I was just looking, that's all. Seeing if anything changed." 

"You're just checking, I see," Harry mused, ducking his head again to be eye level with her, the green of his gaze outlined by smudges of inky-black liner, "That would be a fun birthday present, don't you think? I could even have you be the one to give it to me. Would never forget something like that." 

(Y/N) practically blanched at the idea of being the one to hold the tattoo gun to his skin. She'd never have steady enough hands, that was for sure. "I couldn't—I don't think—" 

A teasing pout took over his features, "Y'wouldn't want to do that for me? Give me something special to have with me all the time that reminded me of you?" 

When he put it like that, (Y/N) could almost forgive the jagged lines she would no doubt make. Almost. "Harry..." 

He grabbed at her hand that had fallen to his chest, fingers wrapping around her wrist before he tugged it towards his neck again. From memory, he picked a blank inch of space along the column of his throat, the patch of skin left free between the twisting vines of the rosebush that colored his chest. "Not even if I asked y'to put it here? So everyone would see it? So everyone would know that I've got a pretty angel waiting for me at home. I'd even let y'do them in pink, if y'wanted." 

Her mouth had gone dry as Harry talked. He was so good at things like this, easing her and showing her what those kind of things would mean to him, even if she was scared at first. He was the best at talking to her, soothing the biting fears and anxieties that typically followed her. 

Maybe she wouldn't be so bad, (Y/N) pondered. If she was super careful and remembered to breathe, her hand could steady out and Harry might possibly be left with a petite pair of angel wings drawn by her hand that he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

When she didn't answer, Harry kept on, his eyes drawing over her features in tender runs, "Could do what we did for yours: wait for the shop to close so it'd be just the two of us. Could have you sit on m'lap, and I'd tell y'how to do everything, baby. I know you'd be so careful and good for me. I know you'd make it pretty for me, wouldn't you?"

(Y/N) floundered for a response, feeling her eyelids sink low over her eyes, lashes creating a flattering vignette around the vision of Harry. He knew exactly what he was doing, holding her so close she could feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest before she heard him with her ears. 

It was the picture of her sat astride his lap, Harry laying underneath her on one of the tattoo chairs in the private rooms that made her lungs squeeze the hardest. If she allowed herself to creep towards the back of her mind, in this vision, there was no tattoo gun involved. Even less so, were clothes needed in this mirage. She wouldn't need much of a steady hand with Harry gripping her hips and helping her bounce up and down atop him, the only breathing she'd need to focus on would be to suck in enough air to tell him she loved him between the sinking of her hips. 

Kissing the side of her distracted mouth, Harry mumbled against the skin through a smile. "Now, what are y'think—" 

The doorbell rang just before he had a chance to finish his thought. Dinner was here.

A breath she hadn't been aware was stuck in her throat finally worked its way out when Harry drew away. His eyes were still the bright green she was in love with, but there was something lingering in them that she knew a little to well and recognized in the dark of his bedroom. If they kept this up, the birthday present she had been gearing up for was going to be rushed to be shared on the couch. 

"I should get that," (Y/N) mumbled, the words rolling off her dry tongue though she didn't make a move to leave his arms.

"Probably," Harry mused, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Or, I can get it. Y'look a little flustered, baby, might be best if I go answer the door, hm?" 

She knew he was teasing her, the slight lilt to his tone all the evidence she needed. Still, even as her cheeks heated and eyes grew a fraction wider at his words, she liked it. She liked it when Harry played these little games with her; when it was just the two of them and he used that voice on her. 

"Okay." 

Harry's lazy smile transformed into a full grin at her response. His arms around her waist dropped as he stepped away from her. "Go wait in the living room for me, yeah? I'll be back in just a second, baby." 

He left her after patting at her bottom, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. She watched his retreating form, tattooed shoulders stretching the white tatters of his vintage Rolling Stone's t-shirt his mom had sent as a present. The fabric, worn and old, allowed for the stretch and lean of his muscles to be seen through it, each of his movements highlighted by his tattoos.

At this point, (Y/N) wasn't sure if this gift she had planned tonight was more for him or for her. 

—————

(Y/N) watched from the corner of her eye as Harry sunk further into the couch cushion, his eyes drooping in the light of the T.V.. He held a contented smile on his features as he pulsed the arm he had slung around her shoulders. Their Chinese take away was still spread over the coffee table, having finished with the containers over an hour ago though neither of them had the motivation to put the leftovers away for the night. 

She tried to be discreet in the way she allowed her gaze to trace over the lines of his form. Soft lighting from the kitchen seeped into the living room allowing for Harry to be backlit, his profile standing out against the light. His lashes held a gentle curve, the tips fluttering against his brow bone and resting on his cheekbone every time he blinked. The straight angle of his nose allowed for the perfect slope that directed (Y/N)'s eyes to the hills and valleys of his Cupid's bow. Of course, what caught her eye the most, were the pillows of his lips that she knew like the back of her hand. Even with the lack of light draining some of the color from his features, she knew she could pinpoint the exact shade of raspberry pink that tinted his lips. 

Looking at him now, her heart squeezed when she remembered this was just the first of his birthdays they were spending together. She was going to have the rest of her life to see him grow and change and add to the person she loved.

Moving her gaze from his face, she was more than thankful for the tatters of his Rolling Stone's t-shirt as the holes and gashes in the fabric allowed for peeks at his inked torso. The way he was stretched out, legs spread wide, taking up space next to her with the length of his arm thrown over her shoulders, made the lean muscles in his torso ripple and stretch in a reminder of how strong he was—and how gently he conducted himself with her despite that. His tattoos were dark underneath the fabric, enhancing the shadows already blanketing the view of him. Even without the clear strength he displayed and the lean gracefulness that only came from someone who had grown to love the body they were in, the art inked on his skin was enough for (Y/N) to argue that photographs of him should be hung in the Lourve. Maybe even a statue of him to replace Michelangelo's David would suffice. 

Harry adjusted his position on the cushion, a sliver of his abdomen visible as he moved from one of the holes in his shirt. (Y/N) watched as the muscles contracted and shifted under the ink on his skin, ticking a fond memory (or should she say memories) of the just a couple of nights ago when he had her sat astride his lap and he bucked his hips up into her, abdomen flexing and straining as he bounced her on his hips. She swallowed at the thought, daring to allow her train of thought to drift towards what she was hoping he wasn't too tired for tonight. Just like he had done for her birthday those months back, she had something special in mind for tonight. 

(Y/N) hadn't even realized she'd been caught staring—since when had she allowed herself to shift towards him, straying away from the sly sideways glancing she had began with?—until Harry's lips curved into a smile and she heard he gentle rumbling of his voice. "What are y'looking at, baby? Have I got something on m'face?" 

He knew exactly what he was doing, that lilt returning to his voice that spurred a blaze to ignite behind (Y/N)'s cheeks. When he made a lazy roll of his neck, finally looking to her with that lopsided smile on his mouth, she felt her heart skip a beat. So what if he was teasing her and caught her staring? He knew what he looked like, so there's no way he could blame her. 

"No," she peeped, answering the latter question. Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shuffled closer to his side, feeling the heat of his gaze on her face. "I was just wondering if you were tired already," she explained, a very short and clean version of where her thoughts really had landed as she gazed at him. 

Harry's arm around her shoulders flexed, his palm spanning her upper arm with tattooed fingers denting the soft skin. "'M not tired, no," he started, something sly added to the curl of his lips, "Why?" 

(Y/N) shook her head, lips tight as she fought the urge to settle herself against his chest and slant her mouth over his. As much as Harry brought her out of her shell, this territory was still something she allowed him to take the lead on and was harder for her to express her wants and desires as freely as he did. 

But, she figured with that she had planned for tonight, that wouldn't much matter with what she was going to propose to Harry.

"Just wondering," she settled on, picking at her nails that had fallen in her lap.

A dark brow raised over his eyes, a knowing look shaping his features. "Are you tired?"  

This time the shake of her head was immediate and rushed. She was definitely, definitely not tired. 

"Look at you," Harry smiled, taking the initiative to swing his opposing arm around to land on the thick of her thigh before tugging her to him. He curled around her form, ducking his head to catch her gaze. "Two movies together and y'didn't fall asleep during either one. 'M proud of you, lovebug." 

Unable to stop the grin that plucked at the corners of her lips, (Y/N) allowed the smile to stretch over her face. She loved it when he talked to her like that, hearing that he was proud of her, even if its over something silly like staying awake during movies. 

(Y/N) glanced at him through the cover of her lashes. "I didn't want to miss any of your birthday, that's all," she peeped, voice a secret between the two of them. 

Harry hummed at her words, eyes flitting over her features in teasing draws over the planes. "We've still got a few hours left, don't we? Any ideas on how to spend them, since y'don't want to miss anything?" 

As if he didn't already have a plan. (Y/N) knew better, knew he had something cooking up with that inky gleam in his eyes. 

Still, (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth, dropping her gaze to his tattooed arms, the designs sinking under the sleeve of his top though the lines of his muscles were easy to follow. "I had a couple of ideas, maybe." 

The lopsided grin on his lips widened. "And what were those ideas, love?" 

She felt like a guppy now at his prompting, unsure of how exactly she wanted to phrase what she had planned for the night. Sure, he had done a stellar job of pulling her further and further out of her shell since they'd met, but this was... different. Different than anything she'd asked of him before. 

This whole idea came to her on accident, really. Months ago, she'd come by the shop to drop off Harry's lunch, him having forgotten the bag in the kitchen when he'd left that morning. It was supposed to be nothing more than a couple of minutes, in and out before she headed off to class after sharing a couple of kisses in his office. But, when she had walked in, finding the front room vacated with voices drifting through from Harry's office, she overheard something that made her pause. 

It was no secret Harry was the more experienced out of the two of them, but it definitely wasn't something they regularly discussed—if at all. But, walking into the tattoo parlor she overheard one of the boys (she was about ninety percent sure it was Niall, which didn't surprise her) teasing Harry about how he apparently only "made love" now, gone were the days of his raucous shenanigans and explicit flings. She had crept down the hallway, listening as their words floated out through the small crack left between the door and the jamb of his office. She heard as Harry brushed off their teasing, telling them to leave him alone. It seemed his protesting had only spurred them on, (Y/N) listening as she heard them start again, asking Harry if he remembered back in the day when he was the first to share whatever wild escapades had taken place the night before with details to spare. 

She'd known he'd gotten into some trouble before her, and more than likely toned down a lot of the kind of things he enjoyed before her, but it was different hearing it this way. Harry was always very adamant about how much he loved the things they did together, that he didn't want for anything when he had her kiss on his lips and her pretty body in his arms. Even then, he didn't play into their teasing, only offering half-hearted grumbles and requests for his friends to shut the fuck up, but (Y/N) felt like she was finally hearing about a side of her Harry she'd never learned about before. 

For a split second, the idea that he had these experiences with others before her inspired a lick of insecurity tinted with jealousy before the pit was quickly filled and a different set of ideas replacing that worry. She had all the time in the world to redraw those memories of his, putting herself in place of those previous girls. That was how he figured his birthday might be the best time to put some of those ideas into action. 

Harry nudged his nose against hers, the tip grazing her cheek as he awaited a response. "Y'can tell me, baby. 'S jus' me." 

"Well, um," she stuttered, taking advantage of the lack of eye contact as he buried his face in her neck, "I just... When we go to your room, I want tonight to be all about you. I want to do whatever you want—however r-rough you want to be, I'll do it." 

Once that stuttered word left her mouth, her request for him to be rough, she felt Harry tense. The teasing shapes he was drawing on the curve of her neck with the tip of his nose and the brushes of his lips against the delicate skin halted in less than a second. 

Maybe this wasn't the right thing to ask. 

Pulling back from the home he made in her neck, Harry's eyes were clear and unrelenting as they matched hers. "Y'want me to be rough with you?" 

Swallowing, (Y/N) found her mouth dry now that she had an unobstructed view of his reaction. "I-I want to do whatever you like, in-including being rough if that's what you want." 

Long, slow moments passed where (Y/N) felt more than a little vulnerable under his gaze. The mossy coloring of his irises decreased until it was nothing more than a thin ring around his pupils. The longer he looked at her, she noticed the way something smug lingered on the edge of his lips though he tried to bite it back with the blunt of his teeth. 

Touching his forehead to hers, Harry closed the space between them tight enough to leave just the tip of his nose nudging hers though not near enough to close the gap between their lips. "That's not what I asked you, baby, you know that. I wanted to know if you wanted me to be rough. Don't care if it's something y'think I want, I want to know what you want." 

His eyes were clear and piercing as they met hers, cutting out any chance for her to shy away or find anything other than his attention to concentrate on. His hands were still softly cradling her form, an arm around her shoulder to anchor her while the other hand cupped the soft of her thigh, fingers edging towards her bottom—gentle, like he always was with her. 

With Harry's words floating around in her head, (Y/N) pictured what it would be like for those gentle hands on her body to shift. For his hands to change the way they guided her. The gentle pressing of his fingertips on her thigh could become bruising dents into the soft of her form. The weight of his body pinning her to the mattress under him, keeping her just where he wanted. His hips driving between hers, knocking the breath out of her before she could even gasp his name. All the while, he could still picture Harry kissing her gently, telling her how beautiful she was even as she was ruined. 

Focusing her attention back on the man that was currently starring in her fantasies, (Y/N) realized she hadn't been very discreet in her imaginings. The corner of his lips were upturned in the slightest, his hooded eyes seeming entirely too smug around the ink of his blown pupil. 

"I think it could be... nice," (Y/N) settled on, her words nothing more than a peep between them. 

Harry's lips bloomed into a smile at her word choice. "Nice? Y'think me being rough with you, showing y'exactly how I want you and letting me do anything I want, would be nice?" 

He was teasing her. As expected, a fluttering of butterflies and bumblebees made way through her tummy, knocking against her ribs and punching at the soft tissue of her middle. But, what wasn't normal, was the extra clench of her muscles at the tone he used, the cloying, gently mocking tone that swathed his words and made her thighs clench and insides pulse. 

Maybe it was the butterflies in her tummy or the way he was looking at her so intensely with a teasing shimmer in his eyes, but (Y/N) felt breathless as she spoke. "I-I think so, yeah." 

(Y/N) watched as Harry sucked in a deep breath, his eyes clear and attentive as he gazed as her. Before she could react, his hand that had been settled on her thigh reached up and grabbed at her chin, pinching the curve between his thumb and forefinger as he tipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. 

Gentle as he always was, Harry guided her through the contact, tucking her bottom lip between his two. He sucked on the full of her lip sweetly, the tip of his tongue tasting the swipe of raspberry lip treatment she had applied to her mouth after dinner. It wasn't the kiss she had expected given the circumstances of their conversation, but it wasn't one she was going to complain about. 

That is until Harry's hand on her chin shifted, working over the line of her jaw before finding its way through her hair. His fingers sifted through the strands before he made a sharp fist on the back of her head, hair included. Her head snapped back, baring her neck as her pulse picked up under the delicate skin. A gasp fell from her mouth, the change in his hold more startling than anything painful. 

"Was that nice like y'were thinking?" 

Despite the lightly mocking edge to his words, (Y/N) couldn't help but flutter her eyes closed and nod her head as best she could with a fist in her hair. The brush of Harry's lips against hers that she earned was nothing more than a tease before he pulled away after a breath. Only their breathing could be heard as (Y/N) tried to find her mind, Harry's hand lingering heavily in her hair. He made slow work of unfurling his fingers and allowing the strands to slip back into place. 

"I think," he breathed, dotting a kiss on her chin before the point was plucked between his thumb and forefinger, "we need to talk about a couple of things before we keep going. That alright, angel?" 

Blinking her eyes open, she allowed her chin to level and get a look at her Harry. There was something different in his gaze as he swept it over her features. The green of his eyes was almost completely eradicated around the inky black of his blown pupil, a spark lingering behind them that she'd never seen before. 

Was this the guy the boys had talked about? Was this who existed before she walked into his life?

"Hm, baby?" he prompted her, thumb tapping against her chin through the hold he had on her.

"Y-Yeah," she stuttered, "We can talk." 

A sweet smile bloomed on his features the longer he looked at her, his grip on her chin loosening to a caress before he planted a soft kiss on her lips. "You're s'good, angel." 

She smiled into the contact, comforted by the reappearance of her safe place. "Thank you." 

A breathy laugh was exhaled through Harry's nose as his eyes practically turned into hearts while looking at her. He ran his thumb over the full of her bottom lip, pressing into the pad before whispering for her to c'mon, then, lovebug.

With their fingers laced together, the towed her behind him to his bedroom. As much as it broke her heart, (Y/N) closed the door behind them, effectively cutting off Evie from racing over the threshold and joining in on the cuddling she was expecting. Silence covered the bedroom as Harry tugged her to the bed, sitting himself down first before placing her on his lap. 

(Y/N) settled herself with thighs on either side of his hips, arms wrapping around his neck while Harry's steadied her around her waist. While he was still very clearly wrapped up in what they started out in the living room (the bulge sitting right underneath her was enough evidence), she still couldn't help herself from fawning over him. No matter how blown his pupils were and what the night's agenda held, he was still the most gentle, handsome man she'd ever met and that made her heart beat harder than anything. 

"Hi," she smiled, playing with the ringlets of curls falling over his shoulders. 

His smile was sweet as he gazed up at her. "Hi, baby." 

She couldn't help but hug herself to him at the sound of his affection, tucking herself into his neck with her chest pressed into his. Harry reciprocated her hold just as tightly, fingers braiding behind her back with his chin on her shoulder. 

"Still feeling good about your idea for tonight?" Harry cooed in her ear. 

Sitting in his arms, she got to feel the strength she had been admiring before. Corded muscles cuddled her close to the planes of his chest, blocks of abs pushing against the soft of her own body. She didn't know what he was going to do with his body, with the span of his hands that held her waist or the cradle of his thighs under her body, but she knew that he wouldn't do anything he didn't think she would enjoy or make her feel unsafe. 

"I am, yeah," she affirmed, nodding her head with a smushed cheek against his shoulder. 

"M'brave girl," he praised her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before drawing away and urging her to pull back. "I've got something new I want to do with you tonight, then, too." 

"Okay," she nodded, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth as she fought to maintain the eye contact she knew he was looking for. 

He shifted his hold on her, his forearm still barred around her back while his other hand pet at her waist in gentle runs. "Have y'ever heard of a safe word before?" 

Her response was a simple shake of her head. If Harry hadn't taught it to her, chances are, she'd never heard of it or understood what it meant if she had. 

Nodding his head, (Y/N) watched as the curls huddled over his shoulders. "Since y'want to do some rougher things with me tonight, I think we should have a safe word or try out a color system," he continued, voice soft between the two of them, "'S jus' something for both of us, to make sure we both feel comfortable and safe. If either of us say our safeword, then everything stops. We go back to cuddling and loving on one another, no matter what we were doing before. Y'can tell me to stop still, no matter what and I'll listen, but this can jus' be something else we have that we can use. " 

(Y/N) listened intently to his explanation, nodding her head as he finished though she wasn't completely clear on all the details. "What's a color system?" 

Harry rolled the question around in his head, tilting his head as if wracking his brain for the right answer. "'S like a stoplight, kind of. There's green, letting each other know we both feel good and that we can keep going. There's yellow, which means we need to slow down, that we still want to keep going but need a breather. And there's red, which is the same as saying stop. No questions or anything, jus' a complete stop and we start treating each other gently again." 

"Oh, okay." The idea sounded simple enough, (Y/N) figured. She liked the idea that if H didn't like something they ended up doing tonight, that he could ask her to stop or slow down. And, she could ask for a breather if need be, though she couldn't imagine Harry doing anything that would push her too far to step out of green territory.

The edges of Harry's lips fought to curve into a smile as she gazed at her. "Yeah? Do you like that idea?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, a nod of her head accompanying the sound, "I like the colors." 

His hand on her waist slid up the curve of her side before landing on the ladder of her ribs. "What's your color right now, then, love?" 

She didn't even have to think before he bounced in his lap (a move that had Harry's thighs tense and grip pulse), "Green—I'm green."

"Me too, baby," he mused before craning his neck and pressing his lips to her, falling back on the mattress and taking her with him, "I'm going to be checking in on you a few times tonight, okay? Whenever we do something new, I want to know your color and make sure you're okay." 

"Okay," she whispered against his kiss, her arms around his neck tightening with the curls tickling the insides, "And you'll tell me if you're not green anymore?" 

(Y/N) felt his smile more than she saw it as he nudged his nose against hers, "I will, angel. I promise." 

Catching her lips in a kiss, Harry took his time working her into the dreamy state she had been in out in the living room, helping her find her pliant state with his tongue in her mouth and hands on her waist. (Y/N) followed after him, lips parted and allowing sweeps of his tongue to run through her mouth with sucks of her bottom lip into his mouth, her chest pressed to his as she breathed in deep runs when she had the chance. 

Her knees were braced on either side of his hips when Harry adjusted his hold and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hang on," he murmured against her kiss before tightening his grip and rolling them over to end with him on top. 

Careful to keep the full brunt of his weight from sinking into her, Harry allowed himself to lean into her form, pining her to the mattress. His mouth on hers slowed to gentle kisses, only the tip of his tongue running along the seam of her lips as he seemingly waited for any change in her response to the heavy handed contact. The only one garnered came in the form of her arms around his neck shifting to allow her fingers to sift through the curls of his hair. 

This what what she had been imagining, she thought as she sighed into the contact; he was being as gentle as ever, kissing her sweetly and reminding her how loved she was by him, with the breath-stealing weight of his body pinning her down to ensure he got to keep doing as he pleased for as long as he felt. She hadn't been thinking when she bucked her hips upwards when she felt his arms looped around her waist tighten and draw an arch into her back. 

A hum rumbled through his chest, her core having pressed right against the ridge of his cock. His kissing turned a touch harsher, something punishing lingering on the outskirts of the contact as he smeared his mouth over her own before pulling away. The heat of his breathing was felt against her skin as he stayed close enough to touch the tip of his nose to hers. "Be good, baby," he told her, his arms around her waist shifting to cup the bones of her hips in his palms, "Stay still and let me take care of y'like y'promised you'd let me." 

Her breathing hitched at his words, the measured pacing she had started with now coming out in a huffed pant through squeezed lungs. "Okay, sorry," she squeaked.

"Don't be sorry," he hummed, nudging her face to the side with the help of his nose, "Jus' be good like I know y'are, yeah?" 

While Harry kissed down the planes of her face, following the line of her jaw before planting a garden of kisses along the curve of her throat, (Y/N) tried to find her head. She'd lost it the second Harry wrapped her hair in his fist on the couch and it seemed to only run farther and farther away every time the stern tone of his voice rang through her head. Velvet covered steel, she thought, affection carrying the words out of his mouth though he made sure to let her know she was going to be sticking to her word of letting him call every single shot for the night. 

It was Harry this time that ground their hips together, his cock pushing against her legging covered core. (Y/N) did her best to keep from reciprocating the strokes of his hips, her thighs tensing on either side of him with her hands in his hair tightening as if to work out that energy that called for her to ask for more from him. 

"Feel me, love?" he murmured, his teeth scraping at the ledge of her collarbone as he dug his hips harder into her softness. 

"Uh-huh," she keened, her mouth falling into a gape with her cheek smushed against the soft of his pillow under her head. 

"So hard for y'already, angel. That's what happens when you're good for me." He praised her as he drew away from the column of her throat. One of his hands abandoned station on her hip, his palm cradling her cheek as he nudged her to face him. His hand still on her cheek, he pet his thumb over the height of her cheekbone, "Ready to give me more?"

He gazed down at her with eyes that reminded her of the tone of his voice: stern steel and velveteen affection. His lips were slicked with spit and shone in the limited light offered by the lamp on the night stand before he trapped the bottom one between his teeth, gaze shifting to where she could feel the imprint of his kiss on her neck. 

Her response came out as an absent hum of confirmation, the noise vibrating through her throat where she could still feel the ghost of his warmth working over the skin. A short smile made its way over his mouth, molding his features into something soft before dotting a kiss on her cheek. He shifted over her, drawing away and leaving her to face the chill without his body covering hers. 

"C'mere, lovebug," he crooned, tugging her along with him until he was sat at the edge of the mattress with (Y/N) following. He pinned his gaze on her as she kneed over the fluff of the duvet, stopping her before she could get too comfortable. Reaching for a pillow that bordered the headboard, he said, "Why don't y'get on your knees for me, baby." 

(Y/N) watched as he placed the pillow on the floor, filling the space between his legs that was left as he spread them open to allow her to kneel between. She swallowed, following his tender-toned instructions as she climbed off the bed and sat back on her heels, knees cushioned by the pillow. With her bottom lip trapped between the blunt of her teeth, (Y/N) gazed up at Harry from where she sat, her skin heating when she found his eyes already pinned to her. 

He towered over her from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands spanning the thick of his thighs, black nails gleaming like the matching hoops pierced through his lip and nose. 

"Comfortable, love?" he crooned to her, reaching out and passing his fingers through the baby-fine hairs that fell over her forehead. 

"Mhm," she smiled, leaning into his hand, "Thank you for the pillow."

The edges of his lips curled into a softened smile, his hand settling into a cradle on her cheek. "Of course, baby. 'M going to be a little rough tonight, not mean." 

(Y/N) turned her head in his hand, lips level with the warmth of his palm where she pressed a kiss to the center. The ink of Harry's pupils, though still harboring a heat that was going to take some effort on (Y/N)'s part to extinguish, practically turned to rounded hearts as he gazed down at her. She watched through the frame of her lashes as he curled over, his other hand abandoning his thigh and settling along the line of her jaw.

"Give me a kiss, angel," he cooed to her, bending down far enough that his hair haloed around then with her face cupped between his palms. 

It didn't take much of a thought before (Y/N) complied with his request, bouncing on her heels. She earned a breathy laugh from Harry was fanned over her skin before he sealed his mouth over hers in a soft kiss. He parted her lips gently with his own, allowing her only a taste of his tongue before he was drawing away once again, thumbs petting at her cheekbones. 

"M'angel girl," he murmured before kissing at the corner of her mouth. He unfurled himself from around her, sitting with his hips at the edge of the mattress and his gaze pinned on his love. He only dropped her eyes when he began messing with the fastenings on his pants, fingers working right at (Y/N)'s eye level. 

Watching intently, (Y/N) felt her breathing shift. The air in her lungs suddenly felt heavy as she followed the track his fingers were tracing until the glimpse of white boxers she'd seen before turned into a full-fledged show as he parted his fly and left it gaping. The outline of his cock was clear as day through the straining fabric, precum just beginning to seep out and thin the opacity of his underwear. 

"Understand, angel?"

(Y/N) watched as Harry's hands stopped working, the black on his nails glimmering in the glowing light from the lamp. His tone was deep and graveled as it caught her attention, (Y/N) realizing her hadn't heard a single word of what she was supposed to be understanding. 

"W-What?" she stuttered, looking up at Harry with her eyes rounding out from the hard edges that shaped his features. 

He canted his head as he looked at her, the edges of his lips fighting off a tilt. "Y'weren't listening to me, baby?" 

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a beat, eyes falling from his matching gaze back down to his lap in a fleeting sweep. "I was distracted," she peeped, "Sorry." 

Shaking his head, Harry took her face between his hands, barring her from looking anywhere but himself as he curled forward once more. "Remember what I said? Don't have to be sorry, love, jus' be good. Okay?" 

"Okay," she repeated through puffed lips, nodding her head as best she could in his hold.

Harry indulged himself in a short kiss to her lips before he resumed his position and worked his pants down his hips, budging up until the material sat at the mid of his thighs. "Was telling y'that I want y'to remember that 'm being rough tonight, but not mean to you. We're gonna try something a little different this time, and I want y'to tell me if y'want to stop. Since y'won't have much room to speak, our colors aren't going to work. But, what y'can do for me, is tap my leg three times, and that's how I'll know y'want to stop. Do y'understand this time, angel?" 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) willed herself to look away from the tented fabric of his boxers. "Y-Yeah, I do, Harry," she said, nodding her head. It took effort for her to look away from the way his cock jumped as her voice wrapped around his name. 

Breathing stilted but the smug curve of his lips remained as Harry looked down at her with affectionate approval floating in his eyes. "Good girl," he praised. 

Shuffling on her knees, (Y/N) couldn't help herself but draw closer when she saw his hand settle on the waistband of his underwear. Harry's breathy laugh of so eager, falling on deaf ears as she watched the way his fingers curled into the stitched band and tugged and tugged until his boxers joined his pants at the midpoint of his thighs. 

Watching his cock bob against his tattooed stomach, (Y/N) felt just as she did the first time she got on her knees for him. Though his tattoos continued down under his bellybutton, clusters of flora that matched the rosegarden of his chest piece, she always thought the laurels etched into his hips—a pair he had gotten long before he decided to cover his skin—acted as the perfect frame for him in moments like these. The ruddy head stood out starkly against the black ink, the veined underside on display as he further widened his legs for (Y/N) to take her place between before she reached for his pants and tugged them off the rest of the way, leaving him in only the tatters of his Rolling Stones top.

Just as he always did since the first time he had her like this, Harry wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, giving her a show as he stroked over his length in slow runs. (Y/N) knew that if she had it in her to tear her eyes away from the sight of his tattooed hand jerking over his cock, she would find Harry with a smug smile his lips, moments away from teasing her over her rapt attention. 

"C'mere, angel," Harry murmured to her, his hand still stroking with his thumb running over the tip. 

(Y/N) worked on autopilot, shuffling closer to him, tattooed thighs on either side of her head with the slick sounds of his hand running over his cock filling her ears. Her breathing came out in shaky exhales, a blurt of precum bubbling at Harry's tip once she was close enough for the air to fan over the heated skin. 

"Open for me," he directed, voice low and strong. 

Tongue out, (Y/N) opened her mouth, finally sparing a glance to Harry's face from where he sat above her. His cheeks were now flushed, the tip of his tongue pressed into the hoop of his lip ring, the metal bobbing. He looked down at her, attention pinned to the way she heeded his commands as soon as they fell from his lips. Once he caught her eyes on him, the very corners of his lips turned upward in a small smile, her eyes rounded out and mooning up at him with her mouth open just for him. 

"'Member what I told you?" he asked, pressing the tip of his prick into the flat of her tongue, a pearl of precum dragging across the buds in a tease, "'Bout telling me if y'need to stop?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head as best she could without disrupting Harry as he stroked himself over her tongue. She watched as he shook his head, the curtain of his hair swaying at the motion. 

"No," he settled, "Need to hear y'say it." 

He backed off just enough to not allow her the excuse of pleasuring him to stop her from answering him how he wanted. Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) eagerly nodded her head once more, "I do—I remember, daddy." 

His hand stuttered over his length at the sound of the title. "Good girl, angel," he praised, voice strained. 

Harry reached his freehand around to thread his fingers through her hair, bringing her close to his cock, her mouth falling open on instinct. He guided her with a firm hand, though careful to be gentle with the strands of hair in his fist, pushing the head of his prick into the warmth of her mouth. Upon contact, pearls of precum glazing over her tongue, (Y/N)'s eyes fell closed. 

A heavy sigh fell from Harry's lips. As much as (Y/N) wanted to peek up at him, see the gape of his raspberry lips and the pinkened flush to his skin, she couldn't bring herself to leave the land of HarryHarryHarry that puddled in her system as the weight of his cock settled over her tongue. 

If she was being honest, this act—taking him in her mouth—was one of her favorites. Ever since the first time she got on her knees for him, she understood why Harry wanted to spend so much time between her thighs. In an odd sense, she felt comforted by it all; his hands laced through her hair or holding her own, the weight of his fingers or cock in her mouth, and the cradle of his body enveloping her no matter the position. Not to mention the butterflies that ran rampant in her tummy as she listened to his moans and sighs of her name, knowing that she was making him feel as good as she possibly could with nothing else but her mouth and her will to please him. So, she definitely did not mind that this was how he wanted to start his birthday night off with her. 

(Y/N) fell into her rhythm, bobbing her head along his length with her tongue following after in drags over his cock. Harry's hand served as little more than a reassuring weight on the back of her head, his fingers momentarily tightening and shifting in the strands the farther she took him in. Her breathing came in pants through her nose, growing heavier and heavier the longer she sucked him off. Once she felt comfortable enough, her movements easing and becoming more and more languid as she became used to the feel of him sliding in her mouth, she took him further, the very tip of his prick edging towards the tight funnel of her throat with the pillow of her tongue contracting underneath. 

It was then that Harry's thighs tensed on either side of her head, the crown of his prick jumping against her tongue with a strangled call of his favorite pet name for her—angel, of course—fell from his lips. As much of a struggle as it was, (Y/N) pried her eyes open, though still hooded, and peeked up at Harry through her lashes.

She found him with his gaze already fixed to her, eyes inky black and skin flushed with a gleam of sweat collecting on his temples. The tattered fabric of his top allowed for insight into the way his inked chest contracted as his lungs filled and compressed, tattoos dancing over his skin. Gosh, the view from here—sitting under him, saliva and precum coating her lips—as she watched him fall in love with her mouth was something she wouldn't forget. 

As soon as Harry caught sight of her gaze searching him over, something shifted. His hand in her hair tightened. The roots of the strands were tugged in a gentle pull as his fingers flexed, the line of Harry's jaw strengthening as he gazed down at her. 

"Gonna let me be in charge now, love? Ready for me?" he asked her, voice dripping in honey-thick lust and drenched in rocky gravel. Just as (Y/N) was going to settle for a nod of her head to tell him yes, she was tugged off his cock, a slick noise filling the air as the head of his prick popped out of her mouth. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw a string of her spit linking the full of her bottom lip to the tip of his cock, the salvia bowing before dropping against her chin as he drew her back. Her breathing came in broken heaves, lips glossed and eyes wide. Desperate to have him back in her mouth, feel the base of his cock under hands and his tip at the back of her throat, (Y/N) nodded her head in jerky motions. "Ye-Yes, I'm ready, daddy." 

A pleased smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the ring pierced at the edge of his mouth bobbing at the motion. "And what will y'do if y'need me to stop?" 

Through her hazed mind, (Y/N) wracked her brain in search of the vital piece of information he shared not even ten minutes earlier. "I-I'll tap your leg, right? Three times, and that means red—that I want to stop." 

Bringing his free hand that had been wrapped in the fabric of his comforter down to cradle her jaw, Harry wiped the pad of his thumb over her swollen bottom lip, disregarding the spit and precum that pearled over the skin. The curve of his lips turned proud as he gazed down at her. "Exactly, angel. M'brave girl, aren't you?" 

As silly as it was, she felt a bit bashful under these praises as she lent her cheek into his hand. "I'm trying to be." 

Harry only shook his head, the loose curls around his face swaying in agreement. "You are, darling." Before she could utter any kind of protest, Harry folded over himself and pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, the peck innocent despite the fact his naked bottom half was inches from (Y/N)'s face and shining in her spit. 

When he unfurled himself from the cove his body made around her, he gave a gentle graze of his thumb over her cheek before he lent back into that same hand that was now planted on the mattress behind him. That left him sitting over (Y/N) with his hand in her hair and a lazy smile on his mouth. It didn't take much coaxing her for her to follow along with his guiding hand as he tugged her forward, bringing her back to his cock. 

As much as she wanted to surge ahead, take him back into the warmth of her mouth and feel the weight of the head on her tongue and the vine of his vein brushing over her lips, she allowed him to be in charge just like he said. Just as in everything else he did, Harry started gently. He worked her over his length in familiar motions, the same pace she had been curating just moments before. 

It wasn't until she fell into that comforting rhythm with her eyes closed, almost taking over the motions though Harry still had a steady grip on her hair that things shifted. When her lips reached the point where she would instinctively draw back towards his tip, Harry's hand urged her to go a hair further. Her brows knitted together over her shuttered eyes though she allowed him to guide her, making a point to breath as steady as she could manage through her nose. 

With his cock just barely pushing into her throat with the head brushing past the root of her tongue, (Y/N) felt herself tighten up—tummy, insides, and throat alike—before he pulled her back, the makings of the gag that constricted her muscles ebbing away before doing any damage. He took her back to her his tip, her tongue laving over him as she took advantage of the break, breath coming in deeply through her nose as her brows relaxed again.

"Alright, baby?" Harry asked, voice low and strained. She could feel his eyes on her. 

Mouth full, (Y/N) nodded her head, humming an mhm around his length. Cracking her eyes open just a slice, she was granted a view of Harry looking at her with his gaze fixed on where her mouth was wrapped around his prick, his own bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth. His hand behind him fisted the comforter, muscles straining and dancing under the layer of tattoos on his skin. Every bit of his unrestrained strength seemed to be going into that grip, leaving the hand in her hair stern but worlds more gentle than what he was putting that fistful of bedding through. 

Nostrils flaring as he sucked in a deep breath, Harry gauged her reaction as he urged her forward. "Gonna do it again, alright? Gonna help you take me a little deeper." 

Another hum came from her throat, Harry's thighs jumping on either side of her head. Just as before, he allowed her to get comfortable with a few passes over his prick before urging her to take him deeper, the head of his cock pushing further down her throat. A distracting moan sounded from above her, Harry's voice dredged in gravel and just as breathless as she felt. The nudge of the head at her throat was enough to make her tense up, muscles constricting around the intrusion before she could school herself into calming her reaction. Just as her breath was stolen, Harry steered her back. This time, he pulled her off his length completely, the tip popping out of her mouth, glistening in her spit with swirls of precum shining in the light. 

(Y/N) shifted on her knees, the cushion underneath them dragging over the floor. Mouth dropped into a gap, she caught her breath with Harry's hand in her hair abandoning the strands in favor of sliding over her jaw and cradling her face. As gentle as he was, the second (Y/N) blinked her bleary eyes up at him, she could tell the effort to be so, was taxing. 

"W-Why'd we stop?" she asked, words coming out around her uneven breaths. 

She watched Harry's throat bob as he swallowed, gaze struggling to keep from dropping her to spit-slicked pout. "Wanted to give you a minute. Felt y'start to gag." 

Shaking her head before he even finished, (Y/N)'s brows pinched as she looked up at him. "I don't need a minute," she said, though her ragged breathing begged to differ, "I want to keep going, daddy. I can handle it, I promise." 

It was like a movie, his reaction. Harry's muscles liquified as he took in her response; the tense in his jaw disappeared, shoulders sunk, and bunched arm muscles slackened. Even his eyelids threatened to close on him. His cock had an opposing reaction, jumping against his stomach, taking (Y/N)'s eye for a moment before she urged herself to match Harry's gaze again to let him know she was being serious. 

"Y'think y'can handle me, angel?" 

That earned him a nod in response. 

A whispered curse floated in the air between them as Harry's body came to life again, muscles tight and unforgiving. "I really hope y'can, love." 

There was less than a second for (Y/N) to process his words before he shifted on the mattress, bringing himself to the very edge of the bed and closer to her face. The hand on her jawline snaked a path back into her strands, fingers threading through the hair fluffed on the back of her head. It only took a single nudge from that grip that had (Y/N) smearing her lips in a kiss over the underside of his shaft, nose skimming his length as she worked. 

A shuddering breath wracked Harry's body, his head falling backwards with the curls of his hair falling down his shoulderblades as (Y/N) watched from under him. He recovered slowly as she kissed over the thick vein vining around his cock before meeting the ridge leading to the head, the tip on her tongue swiping over the sensitive skin. 

Though he didn't seem to have the firmest grasp on his control, Harry told her with his best stern tone, "Wh-When we start again, 'm not gonna stop, 'kay? Said y'don't need a break, so if y'decide you do need one, you've got to stick to our rule." 

Her insides warmed at his concern, no matter what, he was always going to be a worrier, even if what they were doing was her idea in the first place. She placed a single kiss to the glazed head of his prick before she drew away. "Okay, H. I understand." 

She knew that was the response he was looking for when his hand flexed in her hair and a breathless smile curled his lips. A mumbled praise fell from his lips, the words being lost on their way to her ears before she was distracted with that same tight hand in her hair. 

It was a routine by now, the way he eased her over his length. (Y/N) welcomed him with a slacked jaw and gaze peering up at him through the frame of her lashes before it became too much—she became too lost, and had to close her eyes. She waited for him, preparing herself with as even of breaths she could take through her nose as he took her further and further down his shaft. The first glance of his head on the back of her throat had her bracing herself with one of her hands landing on his leg, palm on his shin with her fingers digging into his calf. The hand in her lap became restless, clenching and unclenching with nudges of the heel of her palm brushing at the apex of her thighs. 

Harry hesitated in the rhythm he made for her, the pushing and pulling of his hand on the back of her head stilling for just a moment as a shuddering breath sounded in the quiet of their bedroom. (Y/N) peeked her eyes open at that stall, finding him gazing down at her with his bottom lip being worried between his teeth. When his eyes caught hers, lips around his prick and gaze hooded with a shine of her spit beginning to layer over her chin, (Y/N) hummed around him, her own urging him to continue without words. 

That seemed to be enough for the links of his fingers in her hair to shift, his other hand coming to join in the messy strands of her hair. He pulled her off just enough to leave the tip in her mouth as he moved over the edge of the mattress, his legs braced on either side of her with feet planted on the floor. 

(Y/N) didn't realize what he was preparing for until the first thrust of his hips upwards, his cock filling her mouth though her head stayed just where he wanted her. Her spine stiffened at the feeling, the tip of his cock pushing into the tunnel of her throat. Her instincts urged her to pull back, save herself from the jolt of the intrusion, but the soothing weight of his hand made her stay just where he wanted, savoring the pump of the vein lining the underside of his cock. Instead, she shuttered her eyes and focused on breathing through her nose, however shaky the inhales were.

"Oh, fuck," Harry breathed when he felt the snug fit of her throat grow even tighter as he held her there for a beat, hips lifted from the bed. His tattooed thighs were bunched tightly, muscles stiff and unmoving as he fought to keep from bucking his hips any more. "I-I can feel you, angel—so tight. Go-Good girl, jus' keep breathing." 

Hearing him so breathless, struggling over his words just as she was used to doing, made (Y/N)'s confidence soar as he reared back, backside settling back on the mattress and freeing her airways for a moment. Now maybe wasn't the time to pat herself on the back, but it felt nice hearing him praise her for allowing him to guide her into new territory and to please him like she wanted. With that praise floating in her head, she welcomed the next gentle strokes of his hips into her mouth, saturated cock sliding over her tongue before reaching the familiar home it was carving out in her throat. 

His voice echoed in her ears, calling her a good girl, as she took the initiative and swallowed around him each time he tucked himself far in her mouth. She kept the gagging at bay each time she swallowed, Harry's pleasure being the most rewarding side effect of the tactic.

"L-Look at you, darling," he praised her, voice filtering through gritted teeth, "Weren't lying when y'said y'could handle me, were you? Doing so good swallowing around my cock." 

If she could have, (Y/N) would have smiled at him. If she was being honest, she hadn't been completely sure of herself when she blurted out that promise—the promise that she could handle him, no breaks needed, with his prick being shoved down her throat in whichever way he saw fit. It was nice to know she hadn't been lying to him. 

Instead, she only hummed a keening noise around his length, her tummy tightening when his bucking hips stuttered in their pacing. The moment he recovered he seemed to only be spurred on by that momentary lapse, the rocking of his hips growing faster though the depth of his thrusts didn't change. (Y/N)'s grip on his leg pulsed, the coarse hair under her palm grounding her to that moment. Her blood pumped past her ears in roaring waves, almost blocking out the muttering she heard Harry doing under his breath, his fingertips tugging at the roots of her hair. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he murmured, the cursing seeming involuntary, "Letting me fuck your face—su-such a angel. Go-Gonna make me cum on your face." 

Something in her shifted at the idea of feeling his warmth spilling over her features, painting the highpoints of her face and dripping towards her open mouth. While it didn't inspire the prettiest of pictures of herself, (Y/N) could only imagine the loving praise that would fall from Harry's mouth. 

Slick sounds erupted from around her mouth as (Y/N) laved her tongue over his cock with each thrust he pushed into her mouth. She wanted that now—she wanted the picture of her decorated in his release as he praised her with hearts in his eyes and his kiss on her neck. It was with that thought that she met his hips halfway, disregarding the hands on either side of her face. 

She fixed her concentration onto the pacing of her breathing and the air filtering through her nose as she pushed herself further than Harry had done himself. Harry's own surprise was documented in the way his hips stuttered, stilling as he let her swallow as much of him as she pleased. With her focus on keeping her head from the clouds, (Y/N) didn't even realize just how far she has taken him, how much of his prick has pushed through her mouth, until the tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair bordering his base. 

With her head moments from floating up into clouds she couldn't even fathom reaching, she realized just how surrounded she was by him; heavy hands in her hair, his length down her throat, thighs on either side of her head with her own hand wrapped around his ankle. The sound of his harsh breathing took over the room, choked and muffled with curse words thrown into the mix as her throat constricted around him and took the little bit of clarity he had left in his brain. 

(Y/N) held herself there for as long as she could stand. Her breathing was stilted, only the smallest amounts of air clearing to her lungs with her eyes watering and head growing cloudier and cloudier the longer she stayed there. His cock pulsed over her tongue, the vein along the bottom throbbing, balls tucked tight against his base with her chin nudging against them. 

He was going to cum, now, right? She probably needed to pull off and let him finish on her face, just like she wanted, but that sounded like too much work in the momen—

It wasn't until she felt Harry's hands in her hair change, his grip stiffening with fingers tight. He pulled her off as gently as he could manage in the moment, the sting at her roots bringing a ping of welcomed clarity when she was pushed back on her heels at his feet. 

Before she could peel her eyes open, Harry's hands in her hair disappeared, the sound of the mattress depressing filled the space between them as she fought for her breath. Finally finding the energy to blink her eyes open, she found Harry laid back on the bad, chest heaving as he sucked in lungfuls of air and his arms splayed out at his sides. 

A breathless, hoarse laugh fell from her lips as she climbed onto the bed beside him. His eyes were closed with his dark curls haloed around his head, lips pink and puffy just like his cheeks. 

"Harry?" she asked, her voice coming out as a croak. She really did take him deep, didn't she?

"Give me a minute," he whispered, sounding exhausted despite his cock still hard between his legs. 

A beat passed as she fought with herself to not throw her leg over his hips and straddle him, wanting him to take full advantage of the moment he was asking for. Was this his red?

"Are you okay?" she asked after a moment, itching to pull his shirt off and place her hands over his chest, dent her fingers into the garden of tattoos on his skin.

It took a minute before Harry seemed to urge his eyes open, the jade green of his irises drained to a forest shade that rivaled the black of his expanded pupils. He took her in, his gaze tracing over her features in slow runs as he took his time. 

"Angel," he started, voice thick, "Y'deepthroated me, and you're wondering if 'm okay?" 

(Y/N) canted her head at his words. She didn't know there was a special word for what just happened.

A breathy laugh fell from his lips as he smiled up at her. "'M perfect, baby," he said, "Had to make y'stop or I was gonna cum, and I haven't even fucked you yet." 

His eyes fell closed again as he sunk his head into the mattress, almost in disbelief at the beginning of the night's events. His tongue peeked out, the tip lining the full of his bottom lip before nudging the ring pierced through the side, his breathing still less than even. (Y/N) couldn't help herself as she watched him, reaching out and dragging a careful finger at the bottom of his shirt, pulling the hem upwards. More and more of his middle was revealed as she dragged her hands over his body: glistening tattoos pasted over tensed muscles, the pink tint to his skin that colored the designs between the black lines, and what she could have sworn was his heart thumping out his chest as she trailed her hand over him. 

Suddenly, just as she was getting close enough to possibly pull the shirt from his body completely, a tattooed hand complete with black painted nails reached out and grabbed for her wrist. Laying her gaze over his form, she traced the column of his neck and the hard line of his jaw until she found his darkened gaze pinned right to her and a smug smile on his lips. 

"No, not yet, love," he stopped her, edging her hand back down his body and pulling his shirt along with them in the process, "I don't think 's fair for me to be the only one naked on m'birthday." 

No wonder she felt so hot, (Y/N) realized. She was fully clothed, a pair of leggings that felt more like an hindrance than anything comfortable still wrapped around her legs and the slouchy sweater she couldn't believe made it through the night. 

Another breathy laugh came from Harry as he watched her reaction, his own hand landing on the thick of her legging covered thigh. He slid up the length of her leg before finding the rounded curve of her bottom from where she sat on her heels. He patted the soft curve, urging her towards the edge of the bed. 

"Go on, love," he crooned, "Get undressed for me, yeah? Wanna look at you." 

That was all it took for him to earn an eager nod of her head and a scramble of her limbs towards the edge. Another deep chuckle sounded from behind her as she landed on the flat of her feet, socks padding over the rug. She could feel his eyes on her back as she raced to join him, to shed layers of clothing that did nothing but keep her from feeling her Harry.

Her shirt was the first to go, leaving only a sheer, white triangle bralette to cover her chest before her leggings and socks were second to join the pile on the floor. The matching pair of panties tucked between her thighs did little to conceal the effect sucking his cock had on her, a wet patch darkening the delicate material. (Y/N) adjusted the cheeky cut of her underwear with her back to Harry, dipping her fingers beneath the waistline of it just as she heard him let out a low whistling exhale behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) furrowed her brows until she found Harry sitting up with his gaze pinned on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and a teasing look in his eyes that matched the tugs at the corner of his lips. "What?" she asked with a smile to her tone. 

Harry shook his head with a lopsided smile and single dimple denting his cheek. "Nothing, jus' like looking at you." 

She couldn't help herself before she was climbing onto his lap, core brushing his uncovered cock. Though a shiver ran up her spine, she didn't lose her smile as she straddled his hips and held his jaw in her hands. 

"You're not supposed to be saying stuff like that tonight, H. Its your birthday, so I'm supposed to be telling you how cute you are." Her argument was punctuated with a brief kiss to his lips, the contact soft and innocent despite the feral way her lips got so swollen in the first place. 

His head tilted in her hands, a teasingly pouted look on his face. "'M only cute? Y'take me all the way down your throat, and all I am is cute to you?"

A blurt of laughter fell from her lips at his reasoning, her hands on his face falling so she could wrap around his shoulders in a hug with her face tucked into his neck. "You can't say it like that," she giggled into his neck, lips brushing the tattoos she hoped would one day include a pair of angel's wings. 

"Why not?" he countered, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady as he jostled at her sudden hug, "That's what happened, right?" 

"Shhh," she teased, shaking her head as best she could in his neck. She melted in his hold, his arm around her waist and his chest against hers being the main things keeping her upright in that moment. Her next words came out in a whisper though her smile was still audible, "You're handsome, too, you know." 

She felt his laugh more than she heard it as it rumbled his chest. "I am?" 

"Mhm, not just cute," she explained, fingers splayed across the warm expanse of his back. She hesitated around her next words, drawing herself closer to him as if she could hide in his arms, "I—um—And, I think you're sexy." 

This earned her a full laugh that rumbled his chest and spilled over her bare shoulder as he held her. "You know," he said, falling back onto the mattress with her lying atop him, "I don't think I've ever heard y'say that about me—call me sexy, I mean." 

Her cheeks were hot as she tried to press closer to him. "Harry, I'm trying. Be nice," she whined, though her pout held little impact through her impending smile. 

"I am, I am," he argued, turning his face in an effort to press his lips against her temple, "Jus' think 's cute, that's all. I like that y'think 'm sexy." 

Hearing the word fall from his lips sounded much less juvenile than it did in her own voice. "Well, I do—I do think that," she whispered into his neck, dotting the skin with a kiss.

"I know, cutie," he murmured to her, words as gentle as his tone. He shifted over the bed with her, the comforter ruffling around them as he turned to her with the tip of his nose skimming her skin, "C'mere and give me a kiss." 

(Y/N) didn't take much coaxing before she listened to his instruction, drawing away from the warm home she made in his neck. Her mouth was smoothed over his in a moment, her bottom lip tucked between his two. She melted into the contact with a sigh that was swallowed by her Harry, her contentment coating over his tongue as he swiped it across her own after parting her mouth. Her arms she had fit around his shoulders kept her stable once she realized Harry was shifting under her, having become too lost in their kiss—the first real taste of him she'd had since retreating from her spot on her knees—to notice him rolling them over until her back was flat on the mattress. 

His arms were a cage around her before they retreated, the ruffled black duvet coming up in tufts around her body as she sunk into her skin, warm and pliant as he moved her. Her head came to rest on the pillows bordering the headboard, black silk cradling her head and splaying delicate strands of hair across the fabric. Harry drew away from her kiss, leaving (Y/N) with uneven breathing and heated cheeks. With delicate hands that had landed on either side of her head once he moved her, he plucked those rogue hairs off her face, disentangling them from her lashes and pulling pieces that stuck to the slick of her lips. His fingers moved like his eyes, delicately over her features in praising grazes of contact. A slow smile made its home on his lips, dimples deep and sweet in his cheeks. 

"You're so pretty, you know that?" he murmured, his voice dreamy and quiet like a secret, as if his prick wasn't pressing into the soft of her tummy, precum decorating the skin. "M'dream girl." 

He knew exactly the effect that specific compliment would grant him: a bashful smile, a flutter of her lashes, and a turn of her head towards her shoulder as if she couldn't handle being under his loving gaze any longer though she lived for the affection in his eyes. That's why he loved saying it—other than the fact that it was the truth, of course. 

"Stop, you're going to make me cry," she teasingly complained, threading her fingers through his hair. 

The smile on his lips only grew at her faux complaint. "You're right," he hummed, shaking his head, "Can't have y'crying jus' yet—that's for after I've had m'way with you, right?" 

She seemed to go speechless at his words, throat dry as she tried to imagine the kind of pleasure carting through her body that would elicit tears. Maybe he noticed the way her breathing hitched or the ratcheting of her pulse under the delicate skin of her neck, but Harry looked all too smug as he took her in. 

"Yeah? Like that idea?" he mused, dropping his head to kiss just where her blood was pumping at a hammering pace in her throat. He shifted over her as he did so, his cock pressing into her tummy, balls hitting her clit with a pressure that made his own prick jump and (Y/N)'s stomach tighten with a too-tight ribbon around her middle. 

In a shy nod, (Y/N) admitted her interest in the idea of being driven to tears by his touch alone. Taking advantage of the hiding place he offered with his bared neck and broad, tattooed shoulder, she whispered into his skin, "H-How would you make me cry?" 

The air in his lungs seemed to be heavy as he exhaled slowly, the air fanning over her skin. "Want me to tell you, or show you?" 

It only took a split second for her to make up her mind.

"Show me." 

A grumbled sigh of approval shook Harry's chest. His smile could be felt against the line of her jaw just before he drew back from her form. Escaping the hold of her thighs, Harry maneuvered to sit back on his heels between her legs. Running a heavy hand through his hair, he looked entirely too satisfied his gaze racked over her form. 

"Turn over for me, lovebug," he commanded, voice gentle and forgiving despite the steely suggestion. 

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment, her eyes rounding out as she looked up at him with confusion swimming through her irises, before listening to his instruction. Backing up, he gave her space to sprawl over the bedding before she settled with her tummy against the mattress and her cheek smushed into the black satin pillowcase. Her body felt restless with Harry's presence hovering just behind her, the bed giving way under him as he made careful work of spreading her legs and settling himself on his heels between them once again. He'd never asked her to do something like this before, to lay in a position like this. 

With that thought, a stoplight pinged in (Y/N)'s head. 

Lifting her head from the pillow, and looking at Harry over her shoulder, she asked, "W-What's your color?" 

She just barely caught the way a smile bloomed over his features in a slow tug from the corner of her eye. Planting his fists on either side of her waist, Harry lent forward with that same tender grin and dropped a kiss to the full of her heated cheek once he was close enough. 

"'M so green, angel," he crooned into her skin, the full of his lips grazing her cheek, "What's your color, hm?" 

Nodding her head as best she could, she reveled in the familiar contact of his mouth pressing into her skin. "Green—I'm a little nervous because I don't think we've done something like this before, but I have good butterflies over it." 

His smile only grew at her explanation, the curve felt against her skin one more time before he dropped another kiss and lent back. "Good," he murmured, "Tell me if your butterflies change then, alright? We only want the good ones." 

Another nod of her head came as she sunk back into the black cased pillow, her cheek smushing into the down. "I will, daddy." 

Harry's eyes could be felt dragging over her skin as (Y/N) allowed herself to melt into the bedding with eyes closed. Despite the butterflies over the new position, she was comforted by the reminder that this was her Harry. He was going to take good care of her, no doubt. 

"Y'look so pretty spread out like this, you know that?" he mused, "You're right, I think. I've never had you on your tummy like this before, have I?" Though she was sure it was a rhetorical question, one of his musings he put out into the world for no other reason than to fluster her, she still hummed an agreement and shook her head as best she could. Harry hummed in response, his hands coming to lay on the backs of her thighs, palms warm and heavy over the soft skin. They made a teasing pass over the skin, his fingertips brushing against the crease where her thighs met her ass and lingered for only a second before repeating the trek downwards to safer territory over her skin. "Thinking I should do it more often, though, don't you think?" 

At this point, with his hands tracing a trail over her skin and his voice reverberating in her ears and echoing through her system, (Y/N) was sure he could suggest anything and she'd agree whole-heartedly, no questions asked. That was how easy it was for him to earn a nod of her head and a keening confirmation that she loved where his mind was going as he gazed at her body.

His appraisal of her body lingered for moments longer, Harry muttering praises beneath his breath that had her skin heating and tummy turning just before he stopped with his hands on her sides. His fingers wedged themselves between her hips and the bed before giving a gentle tug. "Budge up for me, angel." 

Lifting her hips, she did as told while Harry reached for a pillow laid askew on his side the bed. The plush square was folded beneath her hips, helping to prop her up as she let her weight sink into the down and the bent knees she planted on the bed. Her body was presented to him with her ass up and pussy on display with the help of her spread legs, the damp patch she felt clinging to her form no longer hidden. 

"This alright?" he asked her, refitting himself behind her, the slope of her body allowing only an obstructed view of him now. 

His question earned a quiet nod of her head, her breathing hitching when she felt the press of his hard cock on the inside of her thigh. 

"Still green?" 

"Still green, daddy." 

He hummed as he allowed his hands to settle on her raised hips, fingers splayed across the soft of her skin. It only took a moment for those same fingers to wiggle their way underneath the waistband of her panties, the cheeky cut of the fabric digging into the cheeks of her bottom. 

"Wish y'could see how pretty y'look for me like this," Harry murmured, his gaze burning almost as hot as his hands on her skin, "Got your ass up in my face like 's m'birthday present. Best birthday I've ever had, that's for sure." 

Absently, (Y/N) felt her back arch at his words, presenting herself to him in a way she hoped would garner more praise from her position. If he liked her butt, she wanted to make sure she gave him every bit of the present she was being described as. 

A breathy laugh was heard from behind her before the exhale fanned over her heated skin, the amused sound being punctuated with a whispered cutie, falling under Harry's breath. He stayed quiet then as he took her in, his hands under the line of her panties shifting until his heavy palms groped at her bottom. The inside of (Y/N)'s thigh grew wet as a blurt of precum leaked over the skin. 

"Y'like showing off for me like this?" Harry asked, a mocking edge to his tone that made the butterflies in her tummy sing and flutter, "Showing me your cute little ass and wet pussy though your panties?" 

Her lungs twisted, unable to hold much air in them as she listened to Harry. She hadn't quite thought of it as showing off when she arched her back for him, but maybe there was something to be said about the way she lent back into his touch and only wanted to do more—show more for him and see if he liked it just as much as this view. 

Harry exhaled another laugh when she pushed back against his hands. The motion caused his hands to graze over her backside, fingertips denting the delicate flesh and thumbs hooking into the fabric of her panties. Her underwear collected on the webbing between his thumb as forefinger, the clinging material following after him and pulling up tight against her bottom. (Y/N)'s breathing hitched when she stopped, Harry having taken over and tugged at her underwear until the fabric was bunched tight between her cheeks, showing off the full of her ass. 

(Y/N) fell still under his hands as one of them disappeared, the mattress depressing by her feet where she assumed he had planted his fist in the bed. That left one of his hands on her body. His palm lazily dragged over the waistband of her panties, a low breath being let out behind her as Harry's fist wrapped around her underwear, just above where majority of the fabric was bunched between the split in her backside. Even the front of her panties was tugged back, the outline of her slit clear as day through the sodden fabric as it was retched back. 

His grip tightened until all that was seen was a white sliver in the cleft of her bottom, a satisfied hum sounding from Harry at the view. 

"Knew y'liked showing off for me," he drawled, voice thick and heavy as he gripped her panties tighter and pulled just a hair on the waistband, the fabric beginning to wedge itself between the folds of her pussy. A sharp jolt was delivered through her system as her underwear pressed unforgivingly against her clit before Harry let up on the tug, her thighs relaxing now. "I don't blame you," Harry continued, knocking (Y/N) out of her stupor that even stopped her from breathing, "not at all, angel. Y'have such a pretty body, no reason to hide it—especially from me." 

The free hand she figured was planted by her feet returned as his thumb appeared at the apex between her thighs. The pad of his finger pushed against the clear split outlined through her underwear, trailing up and down in the same teasing runs he delivered when he was grazing her bare skin. He prodded gently at where he knew her weeping hole was, (Y/N) jumping when she felt the brush of her panties being pushed against her tight opening. Harry soothed her in quiet coos as he moved onto the top of her slit, where her clit was bundled against her fabric. 

"Gonna whine for me again if I touch y'here?" he murmured, the tip of his thumb just barely pushing against her clit as he spoke. 

The only response he got was a wet gasp as her mouth popped open, unable to suck in enough air in anticipation. 

He didn't hesitate then to smear the pad of his thumb over her covered pearl, the sticky fabric wetting his finger. Just as he suspected, (Y/N) felt her body sag at the relief of feeling something pressing into her—anything giving her the kind of pleasure she'd been aching for since she found herself at Harry's feet. 

Harry played with her, grazing over her in light circles that barely allowed anything to register other than the lingering brushes of his thumb. (Y/N) was only halfway aware of the arch to her back and the way she pressed back against him in hopes of earning more of his touch. She could have cried the second she felt his hand retreat, all the pleasure and the warmth leaving along with him. 

"H-Harr—" (Y/N) was cut off by her own moan, the second half of his name dying on her tongue when she felt a soft smack of his hand laying across her center. 

"Angel," Harry hummed, both hands now soothing the back of her thighs as if to make up for the momentary sting delivered to her most delicate parts. "Wanna tell me your color?" 

Her answer struggled its way through her throat, the priority of breathing taking precedent in that moment. The lag seemed to worry Harry as his presence behind her shifted, his hand landing on the outside of her thighs before he hovered over her back, necklace dragging cross the knobs of her spine. He was closer now as she could tell by the heat seeping into her skin from his chest and the rumble of his voice into her ear.

"'S okay if 's not green, okay? Tell me how y'feel and we'll work together to make y'feel good, remember?" 

Something akin to panic tugged at her tummy. He thought she didn't like it, didn't want that hot rush that followed after his hand departed from her pussy. He thought she wanted to stop—or slow down, or anything that wasn't continuing exactly what he started. 

"No, no," she rushed, shaking her head, eyes cinched shut with her cheek pressed into the down of his silken pillow, "I'm green, I'm green! I liked that—d-don't stop, please, daddy." 

Harry's breathing changed, the even paced exhales and silent inhales disappearing in a hitch. "Y'liked that, angel? Promise?" 

"I-I promise," she agreed as quick as she could get out the words, "I liked it, daddy." 

A kiss was draped to the cuff of her shoulder before Harry dragged himself away, taking his seat back between her legs. His hands on her thighs rounded to the backside again, one trailing dangerously close to where (Y/N) swore she could feel a flutter of a faux-heartbeat. His honey-thick gaze was almost as tangible as the hands she felt on her as she waited. 

"Then, I guess I'll jus' have to do it again, won't I, angel? Can't say no to you when you've been so good, telling me all your colors and being so sweet letting me be rough with you. 'S the least I can do to spank your pussy like y'like, isn't it?" 

Gosh, when he says it like that... She definitely had a second heartbeat. 

Before she could even form any kind of plea, she felt the loss of his hand on the back of her thigh before a swift smack was delivered to the softness between her legs. A gasp escaped her lips, body jolting at the extra bit of strength he added to this particular swat. A moment of reprieve was granted in the way Harry bent over and pressed a kiss to the curve of her bottom, his once offending hand now running laps along the back of her thigh in soothing runs. She knew she must have calmed down enough on the outside when Harry retreated, leaving only one hand on her thigh and the other waiting to deliver what (Y/N) was beginning to crave. 

A third swift spank came with a soft thump of his palm against her pussy, this one the hardest of the trio though still extremely gentle, Harry using the barest amount of his strength. (Y/N) arched her back at the contact, her clit throbbing in the aftermath. Her body vibrated like a cymbal for a moment as she didn't even attempt to collect herself.

"Oh look at that," Harry awed, his palms slipping down the backs of her thighs and settled on her calves, "Got your toes curling and everything. Y'really do like this, angel. Gonna have to remember that one." 

(Y/N) didn't even realize she was nodding her head until she heard Harry's adoring laugh filter through the room along with a declaration that she was so cute following right after. His touch shifted over her body then, traveling up the backs of her thighs to the soft of her ass before working under the waist of her panties. (Y/N) prepared herself for another of those teasing tugs to be given to the fabric, pulling it tight against her form, just before the opposite happened and Harry took them down. The underwear lingered over her center, the wet material clinging to her for a moment before it gave and he could work it down the soft of her thighs. She helped him as he pulled them down the length of her legs, lifting her knees and feet when he needed until her panties joined the pile on the floor. 

Now bare except for the flimsy make of her bralette, (Y/N) felt especially vulnerable in her position with Harry behind her. There was no way she could hide now, each of her reactions and most intimate places left on display for her lover. Harry's breathing was heavy behind her in the way she could picture his chest heaving with a pink flush coloring through his chest tattoos before working up his neck in search of his cheeks. She would even bet that the tip of his cock was now the same flushed red shade that matched his lips after he bit them or allowed her to kiss them to her heart's content.

"Look at you, lovebug," he crooned as he shuffled behind her, his knees knocking into her own before widening their berth, "You're so wet for me. Must have been really torturing you if you're this sticky, hm? Letting y'suck m'cock only to pull y'up here like 'm going to fuck you, but I jus' keep playing with you instead. Gonna have to take good care of you to make up for it all." 

(Y/N) didn't even think before she pushed up against him, his cock nudging at her inner thigh while her pussy kissed at the bottom of his tummy. The only thing that rung through her mind was his promise to take care of her now, that it was her turn to feel satisfaction. 

"Please, please," she pleaded, "I want you, Harry." 

His voice was strained as he spoke again, "Don't worry, love, you'll have me." His soothing came along with the feel of his palm landing heavily over the small of her back, fingers splaying out. 

One cursory rock of his hips slid his cock up against her pussy, slipping between her folds and brushing the underside along her pearled clit. (Y/N)'s cry was cut off with only half of her oh my— making its way out of her mouth before the rest fizzled in her throat. Harry's own praising groan was loud between the walls of his bedroom, loud enough (Y/N) heard it over the rushing of her heartbeat in her ears. 

She needed that—needed him—in her right now. That was going to be the only way her body was going to settle enough to be present in the moment with him, she knew that. 

Harry seemed to be on the same page when he asked through his ticked jaw: "Are we using a rubber tonight, love?" 

"No, no, I just want you, please," she bubbled, the response coming like second-nature. She wanted to feel all of him tonight, nothing to separate them. 

A whispered celebration of fuck, yes, slipped out of Harry's mouth, the words bringing a small smile to (Y/N)'s lips. Nice to know she wasn't the only one that liked that they had the option to go without now. 

"Tr-Try to stay up on your knees with your back arched for me like this, yeah?" Harry started, one of his hands fitting between the both of them, assumedly to grab for the base of his cock, "But if y'get tired, I gave y'that pillow for a reason. It'll hold y'up if y'need it, okay?" 

"Okay," she peeped out, already steeling herself in hopes of staying in position for him. She was still on her mission to be the best little birthday present he'd ever had, anyway. 

"And you'll tell me if your color changes from green." 

His words were less of a request and more of a direct order (Y/N) still nodded her confirmation to. 

"And, you'll tell me if yours changes?" she asked a moment later, voice breathless. 

The hand splayed over the small of her back moved in a soothing run over the line of her spine. "I will, love, don't worry," he assured her through a smile she could hear. 

(Y/N) felt the knock of his knees hit the inside of her own as he adjusted his stance behind her just before her heart was pushed off rhythm when the tip of his cock brushed the bump of her clit. A sigh escaped her lips at the contact, Harry's hand at the small of her back working to soothe her with his thumb circling in the dimple at the base of her spine. He continued to coo to her as he ran the head of his prick through her folds, collecting all of her wetness to join the glaze of his precum and the wet of her saliva over his shaft. 

"Ready?" he murmured to her, always the one wanting to double check with her. 

"Please," she answered, voice floating between them on a broken breath. 

Harry didn't waste anther second before he nudged the crown of his cock at the opening of her wetness, her walls fluttering at the minimal contact and making it that much harder for Harry to slip inside. 

"Relax, baby," he crooned, voice as soft as his fingertips on her back, "Want me in, right?" 

"I do, I do," she confirmed, her words running together in her haste to get them out, "I'm just ex-excited, I'm sorry." 

A huffed laugh sounded from behind her. "'S okay, love. 'M excited, too, trust me. Jus' relax a little so I can give y'what y'want." 

She let out a murmured string of okay, okay, as she nodded her head into the pillow beneath her cheek. Taking deep breaths, she felt Harry working another circuit of his cock through her slit, willing herself to calm down and settle when she felt him nudge at her entrance one more time. Keening into the bed, the arch of her back deepening, she felt him push in, the head pushing through her clinched walls. 

"There we go, baby," he praised her, slipping further and further inside once the ridge of his crown popped inside, "Doing so good for me." 

(Y/N) felt a smile curve her lips at his words, willing herself to keep the clenching of muscles to her thighs as he pushed forward before bottoming out. His thighs were pushed against the back of her own, balls flush against her, with his hands shifting over her heated skin and grabbing at her hips. Harry stilled inside her, allowing for an adjustment period she still needed no matter how many times he had her. 

With his thumbs following the flared line of her hips, (Y/N) felt his warmth spread over her as he folded himself over her back. The hard muscles that lined his chest and stomach were pressed against her back just as she felt the pillows of his lips press a kiss to her shoulder. 

"Harry," she whined without meaning to, the call quiet between the two of them. 

"'M here, 'm here," he cooed, dropping another kiss to the corner of her lips, "I've got you, love, don't worry." 

He earned an absent nod of her head with his reassurances before her next sentiment left her mouth: "I love you." 

His smile could be felt against the full of her cheek before he proceeded to try and kiss her through the curve. "I love you, too." 

Harry lingered over her for a few more moments, cradling her with his own body before smearing a kiss on her shoulder and straightening out his spine. He gave a cursory rock of his hips behind her, nothing more than a short grind of his pelvis into her center that knocked a breathless moan loose from (Y/N)'s chest. 

"More," she requested, the word more delicate than she intended with the breathlessness of her voice. 

Without hearing anything other than a short, rumbling hum from Harry, she felt the loss of his body as he reared back, her mourning was short-lived before he was pushing into her again. Harry bottomed out with a sigh, this new position allowing him to press as deep as he could into her without the cradle of her legs stopping him. 

"Y'feel so good, baby, so fucking good," he said, voice strained. 

(Y/N) wanted to say something back, tell him that he felt even better, that she felt so full with him inside her and he'd never been deeper, but every sentiment died in her throat when he gave her another deep thrust. Without a condom, she was able to feel every vein and ridge lining his cock, the head nudging as far as she'd ever felt him. Her walls fluttered around him as he curated a rhythm that had the breath knocked out of her with each stroke inside. The only other sounds that could be heard over her breathless moans was the slap of his skin against hers and the growing wetness that slicked his cock with each thrust. 

She couldn't help herself but bury her face in the pillow under her cheek, each of her breathless calls of his name and the heavy slices of air that came tumbling from her lungs now muffled by the down. Her body jolted with every heady thrust he delivered to her center, cock sliding through her walls, hips smacking into her bottom, and balls tapping her clit in way that felt similar to the way his hand had been brought down on her earlier. Her toes curled over themselves as she steeled her legs to keep from giving out and to ruin the position she was in for her Harry. Even her hands were bundled into the deep black of the duvet, wishing they were instead threaded between the fingers pinching at the full of her hips. 

Harry gave a particularly hard roll of his hips, the stroke quick and cutting though he lingered as he worked the crown of his prick against her farthest walls. (Y/N) couldn't stop the cry that left her mouth in a wet gasp, the Oh my gosh!, muffled by the pillow just before one of his hands on her hips disappeared. His unrelenting rhythm never ceased even when she felt that hand reappear in her hair, familiar fingers threading through her strands and tugging at the root. Though he was still much more gentle than she was sure other people would have been committing the same act, (Y/N) was still pulled away from the sanctuary she found in his pillow at the force of his grip, neck bared against the satin. 

"No, not allowed to hide from me like that, angel," Harry grumbled, breathless and panting though his command still maintained a steel edge, "Gotta let me hear you, or 'm stopping, alright? Be good for me." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, daddy," she bubbled, voice throaty given her position, "I won't do it again, I'm sorry." 

"'S okay, baby," he told her, another roll of his hips delivered when he bottomed out, balls pressing into her swollen clit, "I know y'don't mean to be bad, 's okay. Daddy's still got you." 

His fingers left her hair in soothing runs over her scalp before he pet his palm over her mussed strands. As she adjusted herself to lay with her cheek smushed into the pillow once more, she felt his hand settle on the back of her neck, a welcome weight that reassured her that he really did have her. 

"Feel good, angel?" he asked her, hips stuttering when she felt her insides tighten at the use of her favorite petname, "L-Like having me like this?" 

"Uh-huh," she breathed, "Y-You're so deep. It's like you're in my tummy."  

When she heard the groan that worked its way out from behind his sternum fill the room, (Y/N) cracked open her eyes just enough to see him over the curve of her shoulder. He was a dirty dream as he thrust into her, raspberry lips parted and swollen while his attention was fixed on where he was disappearing inside her. The curls of his hair acted as a dark curtain falling around his shoulders, though the smallest of baby curls were pasted to the sides of his face and gleamed with sweat. His skin was covered in that same sheen of perspiration, animating his tattoos as he flexed his muscles and worked himself in and out of her at a rewarding pace. The length of his arm was on show with the way he had it stretched over her back with his palm pressed into the back of her neck, bicep tight while his grip was gentle. 

"Y-Yeah?" he gritted out, "Y'like that?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, sucking in a deep breath before it was knocked from her lungs by the driving of his hips, "I w-want more—want you everywhere." 

Harry's response came in the form of mumbled praises that (Y/N) was too gone to hear, only knowing that he said anything by the way his lips moved. His hand on the back of her neck shifted as she watched the muscles in his arm flex, his palm sliding down the line of her spine before rejoining the one that remained on her hips. She watched him work over her for a moment longer before she realized the strain on her hips he was putting on her, as if he were pushing down on them. 

"Harry, I-I can't—You're p-pushing—" 

"I know, angel," he murmured to her, "Jus' relax and lay into your pillow a little, okay? Gonna make sure 'm everywhere for you, like y'want." 

She didn't have much room to ask any questions, especially when she got the okay to lose the position that was beginning to make her thighs and back ache. Slowly sinking down into the fluff of the pillow propping her hips up, the slope of her body decreased until she was raised up only at her hips with her knees sliding out from under her until only a small bend remained. 

Harry slowed behind her, his grip on her switching to cradle the curve of her waist. (Y/N) used that moment to recover as she felt him shift behind her, her breathing coming in even paces now that he was warming himself inside of her instead of knocking her breath from her lungs with each stroke. Her eyes fell closed during this moment, leaving her only to feel Harry's body hover over hers. 

Unlike earlier in the night, Harry didn't settle with hovering over her. He allowed the weight of his body to press into her back, sinking her into the bed below her. The familiar cradle of his chest and stomach returned with the blocky muscles now heavy on her body as he pressed into her back. He tucked his face into her shoulder, his breathing coming out in humid puffs that clung to the bare of her skin. 

(Y/N) felt her insides pulse when she realized what he was doing: she felt him everywhere. 

His mouth was pasted to her skin in smearing kisses while he gave rocks of his hips into her, not even pulling his cock out before he was trying to press deeper into her. His body was heavy over her own, not allowing her to feel anything but the sheets beneath her and the hot press of his body from above. 

"This alright, baby? Can feel y'clenching around me." His tone was deep and lazy as it sunk into her pores, not even bothering to lift his mouth from her skin before talking. Just another bit of him she now felt inside her. 

"Y-You're everywhere," she keened, a wet gasp falling from her lips at the feel of his grinding hips.

"This is what y'wanted, right?" he breathed. 

"Yes, yes, daddy," she cried, "Thank you, thank you." 

Harry's smile was imprinted on her shoulder. His thumbs on her waist worked soothing circuits over the curve, a gentle reward for her politeness she couldn't seem to shake. "Good girl, so polite." 

As much as she was reveling in the full contact he was granting her with his body pressing her into the mattress, she was missing the heady strokes of his hips into hers. (Y/N) couldn't help herself before she hooked her ankles around Harry's own legs, the vining curve of her legs urging him into her while she pressed her bottom back into his hips. 

A breathy laugh was delivered to the back of her shoulder while his hands on her waist solidified their hold. "Yeah? Ready for more?" 

"Please." 

That was all it took for Harry to rear his hips back, crevices created between their bodies that left her cold for the moment before he was pushing into her again. With how close she wanted him, he didn't dare pull out of her as far as he had been before, instead staying near her and sinking into her with shallow thrusts though his pace quickened. 

His panting could be heard loud in her ear, his own breathing mimicking the knocked tempo of hers. With every bit of their bodies pressed together and the matching pace of their breathing, (Y/N) swore she wouldn't have been able to discern who was who in that moment; where one of them began and the other ended. She liked that. 

Just as her fingers began to curl into the tuft of bedding she was sure she was going to rip a hole into by the end of the night, one of Harry's hands abandoned her waist only to wiggle between her palm and the distressed patch of duvet she was imprinting her nails into. The second (Y/N) realized he was trying to hold her hand, she was quick to replace the comforter in her grip with his fingers threaded between her own. Her heart squeezed at the fact he still wanted to hold her hand in a moment like this. 

The familiar contact was enough to ground (Y/N) as Harry relentlessly thrust into her, her clit swollen and aching with each smack of his balls against the sensitive pearl. Even her eyes began to burn as she took in every inch of space that was being set ablaze by Harry's touch. If this was how he planned on making her cry tonight, he was definitely achieving as much. With his hand in hers, (Y/N) acted on instinct as she brought the bundle of limbs up to the pillow beside her head. 

At first, she only pressed innocent kisses to the line of his thumb. She could hear Harry's amusement at her affection in the breathless laugh that sounded between grinds of his hips, though he never dared to pull his hand away. Once she reached the tip of his finger, swollen lips kissing at the black of his fingernail, she gingerly pulled him into her mouth. 

The hard muscles of Harry's stomach twitched against the small of her back, pelvis stuttering as he drove into her, when the wet of her mouth enveloped the tip of his thumb. A whispered curse was smeared into her skin as he allowed her to pry his digit away from the bundle of their hands,  (Y/N) taking him in her mouth until his finger was completely wrapped in the warmth of her mouth. She sucked over his thumb much like she had with his cock at the beginning of the night, her tongue contentedly moving over him in lazy strokes. 

For (Y/N), this was, more than anything, another way to have him with her—another avenue to be close to him in the middle of all the lengths they were going to to be as near as possible to one another. It was comforting to have him in her mouth, anyway, and she knew Harry liked it when she sucked on his fingers, too. 

As much could be seen in the way he began to breathe like the wind had been knocked out of him and his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum if y'keep doing that," he panted, voice seemingly dipped in honey and rolled in gravel with the way it rumbled through his chest and poured over her skin. 

(Y/N) only nodded her head in jerky motions, his thumb still cozied in her mouth, wanting to feel exactly what was churning behind his stomach muscles that were still pressed into her back. 

"Y'want that? Want me to cum for you?" 

"Please," she lisped around his thumb, the word sounding a lot more like pleathe. 

His sweats slicked forehead dropped against her shoulder, the curated pace he had made with the rolls of his hips coming undone as he seemed at war with himself. After a moment, (Y/N) all too content to lay right there with Harry all around and in her, she felt him shake his head. 

"I can't, baby, not yet," he told her, words coming out through gritted teeth, "Wanna see your pretty face when I cum, 's that alright?" 

The thought of being face to face with him again tugged at the bottom of her heart, urging her to smile though she was much more occupied with Harry's finger pressing into the pad of her tongue. Reluctantly, she drew it from her mouth, now spit slicked and shining in the low light of his bedroom. 

"I wanna see you too," she told him, voice hoarse, "I miss you." 

Harry's voice was unsteady as if he were on the verge of tears as he spoke, "You're so cute, baby." 

Just after pressing a heavy kiss to her cheek, Harry peeled himself off her back. His hand retreated from hers though he still offered her a small squeeze before he situated himself between her thighs once again. Pulling his cock from her warmth, she was left without any connection to him aside from his thighs pressed into hers. She felt cold laying there without him, hips still raised by the help of his pillow under them. 

"Wh—" 

(Y/N) didn't have a chance to finish her question before Harry barred his arm under her waist and flipped her over under him. He untangled the mess of her legs and pushed the pillow off the bed, as he positioned her just where he wanted her before she could even collect her head and reorient herself. 

"There y'are," he crooned as he placed himself between her thighs, her bent knees on either side of him, "Missed your face, too, angel." 

Her hands were quick to cradle his face between her palms, her smile bright though she was leaning towards exhausted after all that had happened since they stepped into his bedroom. She used that grip on him to tug him down for a kiss, missing his lips and detesting the fact they'd barely kissed all night. Harry was a more than willing participant to make up for the lost time, slotting his lips between hers and chasing the taste of the mouth he'd missed all night. 

Distracted by the taste of his tongue slipping over her own and the comfort of the familiar act, (Y/N) hadn't even realized he slipped one of his hands between them until he lined up his cock with her weeping hole and he slipped right inside with a slick noise sounding in the room. He swallowed the aching sigh that escaped her mouth, the breath laying over his tongue before he shared it with her. 

The tempo of his thrusts was much less curated this time around, evidence of the fact that she really was about to make him cum just a minute earlier. He kept kissing her, their mouths slick and wet against each other, even as he dragged his hands over her sides, tracing her form down her legs until he reached and found the line of her shins. His palms were heavy and sweat-slicked on her soft skin. 

Harry pushed against her, pressing her calves flush against the backs of her thighs. Even then he kept pushing, using the strength she had fantasied about on her pliant body until he had her folded over with her thighs pinned to either side of her body and Harry had unfettered access to her center below him. 

(Y/N) threw her head back at the first thrust Harry delivered at this new angle, mouth dropped in a gape though no sound came out. It rivaled that of the depth he achieved behind her, though this time she was able to see him. He shifted above her as he rolled his hips, his knees depressing into the mattress on either side of her to angle himself that much deeper inside of her. Her feet dangled just over his arms, his fists pressing into the bedding to help hold him up as he fucked into her. 

"H-Harry," she whined, her hands on his cheeks shifting until her fingers curled around his shoulders, nails digging into the soft flesh. 

"I know, I know," he panted, lips smeared over the column of her throat, "Feels so fucking good, so fucking good." He punctuated every sentiment with a stroke of his hips, nudging deeper and deeper inside of her every rock of his hips. "I love you, baby," he told her, voice broken and gritted out through a ticked jaw. 

She abandoned the hold on his shoulders in favor wrapping her arms around his neck. Tugging him to her, she fought to press her lips to his in a frantic kiss. "I love you too, H, so much," she cooed, "H-Happy birthday." 

His smile was felt against her mouth. "Thank you, baby," he smiled, "Best little present I've ever had, you are." 

Her own mouth curved into a smile just as Harry delivered a particularly hard thrust to her center, the base of his cock grinding against her clit relentlessly as he lingered. A broken moan made its way out of her mouth as she turned her head to the side, leaving Harry to work his mouth down her neck while her cheek was smushed against the pillow. Instinctively, she shifted to wrap her legs around his waist, toes curling against his back while her walls mimicked her hold all around him and wrapped around Harry's cock in snug ripples. 

"Oh, fuck, 'm gonna cum, angel," he groaned, words coming out over broken breaths and poured over the curve of her throat.

She almost felt panicked at his admission, her legs unraveling from around his waist. The vision of her face painted in his release he'd given her earlier in the night reappeared at the forefront of her mind. He wasn't supposed to finish like this.

"Wait, wait," she rushed out, Harry immediately slowing at her request, "I-I want it on my face." 

Her cheeks flooded with heat at the sound of her own words, the invitation sounding especially depraved with the breathlessness of her voice. But, gosh, the second that picture entered her mind, of her with his cum spilling over her face while Harry moaned above her and praised her for being so pretty with him all over her, she knew that was all she wanted to end the night on. 

Once Harry processed her words, there was something like awe filling his gaze before his features crumbled and he had no choice but to drop his forehead to her chest. His breathing was nothing more than shoddy pants spilling over her skin, humid and weak. 

"D-Daddy can do that for you, baby," he promised, though she knew what was coming next. "Are y'sure y'want that?" 

"I-I am, I am," she keened, "Please, please, H. Let me be good for you."

His cock twitched inside her, nudging the spongey spot Harry made his own, as he breathed into her skin. He lagged behind in response for a moment, no movement other than the heaving of his chest against hers. 

"I-I will, angel, I will," he told her once he found his voice, "Gotta make y'cum first though—gotta be good and cum first, then I'll give y'what y'want." 

(Y/N) nodded her head on instinct, to reassure him and herself that she was going to be good for him. "I'm close, Harry, I'm close, please." 

No response was given as he instead dropped his head to smear a line of wet kisses along her throat and down her chest until he hit the line of the bralette still covering her breasts. He made quick work of that, slipping one of his hands between their bodies and ripping the cups down to sit underneath the curve of her chest. The peaks of her nipples were hard as he took one between his lips, licking his tongue over her before sucking as much as he could into his mouth. (Y/N) keened into his touch, back arching and pressing him harder against her breast. The tip of his nose could be felt grazing her heated skin from where he lay over her, enough of a touch to make goosebumps erupt over her. The hand he bundled between their bodies moved down until his fingertips traced over the bud of her clit, making it that much harder for (Y/N) to keep a clear head. All the while, Harry drove his hips against hers in deep thrusts, a relentless pace being curated in hopes of bringing her over that edge she told him she was already close to. 

"C'mon, darling, cum for me," he murmured to her after he released her breast from his mouth only to move to the other and repeat the motions. 

The circles he was making around her clit grew tighter and tighter until the pad of his thumb smeared heavily over the pearled bud, her legs shaking on either side of him. It was all too much, she needed something to ground her, something to remind her of the moment she was in and not get lost in the pleasure the would take her somewhere she'd never been before. 

With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) urged Harry off her breasts and back to her mouth. She drew him in for a messy kiss, mouths not quite lining up right, but she didn't care. This was enough for her, to leash her back in and make it that much easier to cum knowing that this was still the love of her life hovering over her. 

That was all it took for the spiral that ribboned in her tummy to tie into an unbelievable knot, coiling around her muscles and stealing her breath, then unraveling. 

"Oh my—Har-Harry!" she whined against his mouth, eyes shuttered tight while her hands were fisted behind his neck.

Her toes curled and her back arched, breasts pressed against his sweaty chest. Nothing made sense while her body shook and ran to keep up with her head that was threatening to float up to the clouds and stay there. Harry was the only point of clarity in her mind as she repeated his name in breathless calls, his fingers on her clit and heavy hips working her through the haze to the otherside. He followed her in those moments that her orgasm wracked through her body, gently kissing the corner of her mouth and whispering sentiments she wished she could hear over the rushing sound filling her ears. In the smallest part of the back of her mind, she realized that the tiniest of tears had begun to leak from the corner of her eyes and into her hairline. 

Aftershocks settled in the second his touch became too much, feeling too good to actually revel in the pleasure. "T-Too much, Harry," she breathed, absently shaking her head.

It was then that Harry's own body seemed to bow under the pressure that had been lurking under his muscles. His hand left her clit and his forehead dropped to her shoulder. Every inch of him seemed to liquify except for the hard cock tucked snugly inside her shuddering pussy. He seemed content in just laying over her, basking in her own orgasm with mutterings of how she was such a good girl for him, cumming so hard for him like he wanted, but that wasn't what (Y/N) needed right then. 

"You're turn, H," she told him, voice as steady as she could manage as her arms slipped from around his neck and stopped with her hands on his sides, "You still need to cum, too." 

As if he just barely remembered the request she'd had minutes earlier, Harry's body tensed and his cock throbbed. "Still want me on your face?" 

"Please." 

The way Harry groaned as he slipped out of her told her just how on edge he already was before he started kneeing this way over the mattress. His cock was wet with her own orgasm, the ruddy head glimmering while his precum threatened to leak from the slit. (Y/N) watched from under him as he stopped and hovered over her chest, knees on either side of her body while his own chest heaved with heavy breaths. His eyelids fell over his eyes in a lazy hood, lashes dark like his smudged liner and curling in the low light while his cheeks matched the flush coloring his chest. His lips even matched the red color of the tip of his cock, spit slicked and swollen. 

"Ready?" he breathed, a hiss escaping his lips once he wrapped his hand around the base of his prick. 

"Uh-huh," (Y/N) answered, her hands reaching to land on his thighs, fingertips denting the tattooed skin. "I want it, H, please." 

His eyes squeezed shut as he listened to her, his hand stroking over his shaft in frantic runs. The slick noises filling the room almost made her want to shy away, knowing that it was her own slick that caused that sound. But, there was never going to be a time where she passed on watching Harry make himself feel good with his fist around his cock and face twisted in pleasure. With her much clearer head, she wanted to remember every detail of this vision of him above her, stroking his cock and breathing out obscenities. 

When his hand stuttered over his length and a bead of precum fell from the tip and landed on her chest, she knew he was close—seconds away, if she was lucky. She tightened his grip on his thighs in anticipation, eager to feel everything he had to offer. 

"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, baby," he gritted out, his features crumbling as he jerked his cock. 

The first rope of cum landed over her lips, her open mouth catching most of it with the pad of her tongue. (Y/N) jerked back at first, startled, but soon fell into contentment as soon as she saw how much Harry liked it with the way he couldn't draw his eyes away despite the fact the rest of him was succumbing to the pleasure. He worked over his cock, drawing out more and more of his cum that landed on (Y/N)'s face in streaks that splayed over her cheeks, chin, and mouth—stray beads even landing on the bridge of her nose. If not for the fact she didn't want to get anything in her eyes, she would have watched every second and committed this to memory for any lonely night she couldn't sleep in Harry's bed. 

Once the last stroke splashed across her cheek, glancing over the height of her cheekbone, with nothing following right after and Harry's groans quieting to huffed breaths, she peeked her eyes open. He kept going, fist over his shaft, though he seemed to be spent, finally. It wasn't until she saw him visibly shudder from oversensitivity that he relented, hand falling from around his sensitive cock. He moved on shaky legs to leave his position above her until it was safe for him to slump into the ruffled bedding beside her with the full of his weight.

Harry didn't waste time before he was hovering over her again, propped up by his elbow with dark eyes taking in the state of her face. That look of awe crashed over his irises again as he gazed down at her. The look only heightened when he watched (Y/N) flick her tongue out and lap up the streaks that landed across her lips as best she could. 

He still didn't say anything as he dragged his finger through a rope that landed over her cheek, a little too close to her eye, before returning that finger to her mouth. (Y/N) knew what he wanted as she licked over the digit, cleaning the cum he scooped up for her. A breathless groan left his mouth as he watched her, her tongue slipping back into her mouth now coated in white. 

"Jesus Christ," he cursed before slumping back against the pillows, even the sight of her apparently too stimulating in the moment. 

(Y/N) only had time to let out a breathless laugh, moments away from cleaning up her face by her own hand before Harry reached over the side of the bed and returned with his discarded shirt in his hand. 

"Oh, angel," he cooed to her when he wiped his shirt over her face in careful runs, collecting the streaks of his cum, "Y'have no idea how pretty y'look right now, do you? Y'almost made me cum again right then when y'looked at me like that." 

A shy smile curled her lips as she leaned into his hand, letting him clean her up. "I don't feel very pretty right now, but I'll take your word for it." 

Once she was cleaned up and his shirt was thrown somewhere in the direction of his hamper, Harry didn't bother to respond before he caught her lips in a kiss. The taste of him lingered over her tongue, but he didn't pay it any mind as he laid his affection heavily over her mouth, as if he hadn't seen her all night. 

"M'sweet girl," he murmured, quiet and lazy enough that (Y/N) wondered if he knew he was saying this all out loud. "So, so good for me. So brave, and gorgeous. Thank you, baby, thank you." 

With his hands cradling her cheeks, she smiled into his kiss. "Happy birthday, Harry." 

He crumbled at her well wish, his own mouth now pressing into a smile that mimicked hers. He drew away just enough to press his forehead to her own with the tip of his nose grazing the side of hers. Their lashes tangled at the proximity once he dared to open his eyes, (Y/N) already waiting with her own exhausted gaze. 

"I love you," he murmured, voice like a secret between them. 

"I love you, too," she reciprocated without hesitation.

That earned her one more kiss before Harry reluctantly drew away. He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom, eyes tired and adoring. "Go wait for me in the bathroom, and I'll get some pajamas for us before we clean y'up, 'kay?" 

Though she didn't much like the idea of being separated from him right then, (Y/N) still nodded her head. She needed to use the bathroom anyway. 

Harry sent her off with a pat to her bare bottom as they crossed paths on the way to their separate destinations. Behind the bathroom door, (Y/N) took care of her business and cleaned herself up before washing her hands. The cool water on her palms was a welcome shock from the heated state her body had been in since setting foot in Harry's bedroom. With her chilled hands, she readjusted her bralette to cover her chest, feeling a little too exposed now that Harry wasn't with her. 

She only had a moment to yearn for him before he was knocking on the door before cracking it open. 

"Is it alright if I come in, baby?" he asked her, waiting for her hum of approval before he stepped over the threshold. He found her lent up against the bathroom counter, thighs crossed to protect her modesty with arms barred across her middle. A bright smile molded his features as soon as he took her in, a black t-shirt bundled under his arm as he shut the door behind him. A pair of dark green sweats covered his legs, but it was abundantly clear that was the only article of clothing he bothered to put on with his bare chest and lack of boxers peeking over the waist. "I only grabbed one of m'shirts for you," he told her as he held out the black shirt to her once he was close enough, "but I can pick some sweats out if y'wanted to wear some tonight." 

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head. He should know her better than that. "No pants," she murmured, taking the soft fabric in her hands before pulling it over her head while Harry let out a soft laugh. The top landed at the mid of her thigh and slouched off one shoulder, the article old and worn and even too big on Harry, but it smelled just like him and held signs of distress from years of love. It was her favorite thing already. "Thank you," she said as she flicked her hair out of the neckline. 

"Of course, love," he beamed at her, reaching for her hips before lifting her to sit on the countertop. Her back was to the mirror, where her line of skincare products was set up for the weekend sleepover they were planning. Harry trailed his gaze over the line before absently brushing his hands over the thighs that cradled his hips where he stood between them. "What first?" 

"Hm?" she hummed, twisting her neck to look behind her where his own gaze led, "What do you mean? 

"Told y'we were going to get y'cleaned up, right? You've still gotta wash your face after all that." A sly grinned worked its way over this mouth as he acknowledged what had gone on in his bedroom under the light of the bathroom. 

"Oh," she sounded, cheeks heating at the reminder, "Um—I need to wash my face first. That's this one." She picked the correct bottle out of the line, moving to slip off the counter and wash her features before Harry stopped her with his hands on her thighs. 

"Let me do it," he said, conviction laced throughout his words. Before she could utter the question she was sure was on her face, Harry pecked a kiss to her nose. "Yes, 'm sure. Jus' tell me what to do and we'll get y'cleaned up." 

"O-Okay," she stuttered, speaking through her smile, "We need to get my face wet first, then we just wash my face with my cleanser until its all foamy." 

She knew exactly what had clicked in his brain the second that a teasing glint flickered through his gaze though he tried to remain nonchalant as he ran the faucet with water flowing into his cupped hands. 

"Could've jus' done this part out there then," he started off innocently though his grin was anything but as he used his cupped hands to wet her features, "Since your face was already wet, anyway." 

"Harry, stop," she whined, though it held no conviction as she spoke through a grin rivaling his own, "Don't say it like that." 

"Sorry, sorry," he relented as he pumped some of her cleanser onto his fingers. 

A look of concentration settled over his features as he pressed his saturated fingers to either cheek. He moved in gentle circles over the planes of her face, his gaze following each run of his hands as he waited for the suds to appear. 

(Y/N) sat in pampered contentment under his attention, eyes fluttering closed after a moment, his ministrations far too relaxing to ignore. 

"Thank you," she peeped, careful to not move her mouth too much as he worked. 

"Of course, baby," he told her, voice sounding absent as his attention was fixed elsewhere, "Gotta clean up my mess, don't I?" 

With her eyes closed, it was much easier to utter her next words though she was sure Harry would be able to feel the resulting heat that filled her cheeks. "I liked being your mess." 

His fingers stuttered for just a moment over her features, his reaction lagging until she opened her eyes again. She found him with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, pupils dilated as he dropped his gaze to her own mouth. 

"Harry?" 

The sound of his name seemed to shake him from whatever moment he was having. Clearing his throat he returned to the faucet, swiping a handtowel from the rack before running it under the water. "Think we're good to wash off." 

She only nodded her head, fingers fumbling with the hem of her borrowed shirt in her lap. Was that the wrong thing to say? 

Harry stayed quiet as he wiped the foam of her cleanser from her face, taking care to keep from brushing too harshly or grazing her eyes. 

"What next?" he asked, voice graveled as he kept his gaze trained to the line behind her. 

"I—um—I have it all set up in order, so the toner's next," she instructed, feeling shy now that Harry took her comment the wrong way. 

Even with her direction, he took his time reading the next bottle in line before picking it up, shaking it well before tilting her head up with a tap under her chin. She did as instructed, closing her eyes as she felt the mist of her toner land over her face as Harry sprayed it out. He fanned her face for a moment just as the bottle instructed before he tucked it away, this time not asking for any guidance as he ran his eyes down the line. 

With the next product warmed on his hands before Harry began working the serum into her skin, his eyes dropped to her mouth once more. 

"Y'like being my mess, y'said?" 

"Harry, I—" 

"'S okay, angel," he soothed her, a quiet smile on his mouth, "Jus' had to wait a second before I dragged y'back to the bedroom with me." 

"Oh," she sounded, feeling a little silly now as Harry ran his fingers over the line of her nose, "I thought... I didn't know if that was the right thing to say when you didn't say anything." 

Harry seemingly rolled her words around as he canted his head, reaching for the next product behind her once this one had sunk in. "'S the right thing to say if you're ready for round two, but I think we're both a little too tired for that tonight, aren't we?" 

(Y/N) agreed in a shy nod, dropping her gaze to her lap before Harry tipped her chin up again with dots of her eye cream on his fingers. Instinctively, she looked up under her lashes before Harry mimicked the motion he'd probably seen from her thousands of times as he dragged his fingertips gently over her undereyes. 

"Was there anything you didn't like tonight?" Harry questioned.

Refraining from shaking her head, (Y/N) felt the heat under her skin inch higher over her features. "No, I-I liked everything." 

"Everything?" he pressed, a teasing edge to his tone. 

She was forced to match his eye contact once he was finished with applying her eye cream and reached for the final step of her moisturizer. Just as she thought, there was a layer of amusement soaking in his irises with the beginnings of a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Swallowing, she found her voice around her fluttering heartbeat. "You made me feel really good tonight, H. I liked everything." 

With a scoop of her face cream doled out on his fingers, he didn't stop the smile from spreading over his features. "Everything," he mused under his breath, rubbing her moisturizer into her skin, "Gonna have to remember that." 

"Harry," she whined, wishing she could hide her face. 

"What?" he countered, shaking his head though his smile never waned, "Don't have to be shy, you know. If I didn't like it too, then I wouldn't be almost hard again jus' talking about it, would I?" 

(Y/N) chanced a short peek down his body. He was telling the truth. 

Harry only shook his head again, catching every second of her perusal of his body. With a final swipe on her nose, he pressed a gentle kiss to the soft of her lips before backing up from the cradle of her thighs. "All done, angel." 

Hopping off the counter, she gave him a gracious smile that stretched her cheeks and warmed her skin. "Thank you, Harry. I know I'm supposed to be taking care of you since its your birthday, but I really liked that. It felt nice having you do it." 

"Anytime, love. 'M happy to help," he murmured, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead before reaching behind her. He came back with both of their toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in his hand. His free hand nudged her to the sink. "C'mon, last part then we'll lay down." 

Taking her pink toothbrush from his hold, she waited as he positioned them in front of one of the sinks, Harry beside her. After wetting the brush, Harry put a a squeeze of the minty blue toothpaste he preferred onto the bristles, his hip bumping hers as he stowed the tube away. 

(Y/N) met his eyes in the mirror as she began to brush her teeth, aware of the way he was making a point to be careful not to nudge her with his elbow. He winked at her as soon as she caught his gaze, white foam beginning to collect at the corners of their mouths as they worked beside each other. Another slight bump to her side was delivered by Harry's hip, as much of a smile as he could manage around his toothbrush forming on his features. The curve only grew when (Y/N) reciprocated his teasing, a delicate bump being administered to the mid of his thigh from her own hip. 

Once it was time, Harry tugged her before the sink, letting her spit and clean up first before he followed. He gave her a soft smile in the mirror before murmuring to her to c'mon, that it was time for birthday cuddles before bed. (Y/N) would have skipped to the bed if not for how exhausted she was, climbing under the ruffled bedding after kicking the discarded pillow on the floor towards the hamper. They were going to have to do some odd laundry tomorrow. 

Harry joined her with open arms, his chest an inviting pillow as he cradled her into his side. Resting her head on his chest, she curled in on herself with her gaze pointed down towards their feet and one of her hands flat on his tummy. Sinking into the mattress, (Y/N) felt Harry's body relax under her with his chest expanding in a deep breath. 

"You had a good birthday, H?" she asked once her eyes fluttered closed, hooking her ankle over his under the duvet. 

His heartbeat under her ear fluttered but was quickly overshadowed by the rumbling of his voice. "Had the best birthday, angel. Don't know how we're gonna top this one." 

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," she smiled, her huffed laugh fanning over his stomach. 

"I already have a few ideas," he teased, his voice dropping an octave. A beat passed before he spoke again, his voice soft, "But really, I had a wonderful day, thanks to you, love. I had so much fun with you." 

(Y/N) couldn't help herself before she planted a delicate kiss to one of the roses tattooed on his skin. "Love you," she mumbled, growing sleepier the more she felt his voice rumble under her ear, "Happy birthday."

Harry's arm around her clutched at her hip, bringing her flush against his side. This time, she was allowed to hear the full symphony of his heart stuttering and fluttering. She liked to think that was because she told him she loved him. But, maybe that was just the call of her dreams talking. 

The last thing she heard before she was tucked away in her dreamland was Harry murmuring into her hair: "I love you, too, angel. Can't wait to spend all m'birthdays with you."

———————-

combined a couple of requests to put this one together but hope everyone enjoys it!! thank u all sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes!! if you have any ideas or requests of ur own please please send them in!

ANDREW GARFIELD | SOHO House  

loved it 🩷

FIRST CLASS | JJK

SUMMARY in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

𓍯𓂃

PAIRING rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

WORDCOUNT 25k+

RATING 18+ MINORS DNI

GENRE smut, fluff, angst. university au, f2l

CONTENT childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader, nepo baby!jk, tae sister!reader, heavy pining, heavy cursing, a bit of crack throughout, (soft?) fuckboy!jk, whipped!jk, simp!jk, kinda emotionally constipated!reader, lack of & miscommunication, the most dramatic fic you’ll ever read, jk has his tats & shorter hair (ref in banner pic), jk is a tits guy and reader has big tiddies, jk & reader are very touchy and lovey friends, reader is kind of a bitch to those she doesn't care about, reader is rich but jk is richer 😩, arguments between mcs, jealousy, bottled up feelings, toxic/unhealthy friendship if u were to really think about it, jk & reader have active sex lives beforehand, reader is in a fwb situation beforehand, there is an explicit scene between reader & a side character (but no sex), punch up/fight scene/blood, potential/near-miss car accident, 2 scenes where characters get badly physically injured, alcohol consumption, use of a few male idol names (mingyu, jaehyun, felix), the rest of bangtan are side characters, the last like 9k(?) is literally just smut helppp, happy ending.

18+ WARNINGS kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, fingering (f rec.), oral (both rec.), slight exhibition?..you'll see, pet names during sex, dirty talk, use of the word slut in praise, so much praising, biting, jk likes the pain ok, body worship, tiddy sucking, mentions of tiddy fucking, ball play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, bigg dick jk, soft dom!jungkook, subby!reader, unprotected sex, ocs a pro dick riderr 🙂‍↕️, creampie, sweet aftercare

author's note thank you all so much for the love on the teaser! it truly motivated me to finish this quicker than i ever expected. however, proofing such a long piece was a veryyy different experience to what i'm used to, so if u see any inaccuracies or timeline inconsistencies... no u don't <3

main masterlist

first class ; noun /ˌfəːs(t) ˈklɑːs/ a set of people or things grouped together as the best.

The biting cold of the winter evening settles over Yonsei University's lacrosse field, floodlights casting long shadows on the frosted grass. You pull your mink coat tighter around yourself, the chill seeping through despite your layers. Sitting on the bleachers with Park Jimin and his twin sister, Park Minji, you watch the game unfold.

The match is in full swing: Yonsei versus Hanyang, another top South Korean university. The excitement is palpable as the outdoor stadium fills with spectators, creating a sea of blue and green—the colors of the respective teams they are rooting for. Jimin wears a blue puffer jacket in support, while your roommate Minji is swimming in a blue long-sleeve sports jersey that definitely does not belong to her, you think with a smirk.

You initially weren't going to attend tonight due to other plans, which is why you aren't sporting anything blue. But, after a whiny 20-minute call from your insufferable best friend, you canceled on Mingyu last minute and tagged along with the Parks. Not that you would've dressed in all royal blue anyway… you're not fucking crazy. But maybe you would've added a blue ribbon to your hair or something.

Taehyung and Jungkook, co-captains of the Yonsei team, are in their element, dominating the field with effortless skill. You watch as your brother and Jungkook easily clear the opposing team, their movements synchronized and precise.

Jimin nudges you with a gloved hand, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Your brother and Kook are killing it out there," he says, his eyes following the action on the field.

You nod, cheeks flushed from the cold. Giving him a hum in agreement, you glance over at Minji. Her focused gaze keeps drifting back to Number 12, almost subconsciously, before realizing and snapping back to the middle of the field.

You look away in amusement, focusing on the game again and watching as Number 12, Kim Namjoon, swiftly catches the ball flying through the air with his racket before bolting through an opening in Hanyang's layout.

As the game progresses, the Hanyang team rallies, their determination pushing them closer and closer to Yonsei's lead. The crowd tenses as the score tightens, but you remain composed. You've seen this scenario play out countless times before.

There are 20 seconds left in the match, and Yonsei is down by two points. The twins have matching pouts on their lips, beginning to come to terms with your school receiving their first defeat of the season.

You watch as Hanyang makes the pitiful mistake of trying to make a risky pass by Number 1.

In the blink of an eye, Number 1's racket shoots out and intercepts the catch, and with a final burst of speed, Jungkook breaks right through the opposing defense. His eyes lock on the goal, and with a powerful swing, he sends the ball soaring into the net.

The crowd erupts, cheers reverberating across the field as the final buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game. You can't help but smile at Jungkook's skill.

The Yonsei team quickly swarms around Jungkook, their cheers morphing into a sea of bodies that envelop him, eventually toppling him to the ground in a dogpile. As they begin to disperse, Taehyung leans down to his co-captain with a proud grin.

Jungkook takes Taehyung's hand with a chuckle, the elder hoisting him to his feet before draping an arm around his shoulder. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, shaking out his damp curls, which cling stubbornly to his forehead. His eyes then drift towards the bleachers, where he suddenly loses his train of thought.

There you are, in all your glory—wrapped in a long, expensive chocolate mink coat, cheeks flushed pink from the cold air.

Your smooth legs, sheathed in sheer stockings, disappear into boots that likely cost as much as a teenager's first car. He wonders about the color of your skirt hidden beneath your coat—is it brown to match, or black to complement your boots? The color, he isn't certain, but he does know it is either a skirt or a dress. You would never be caught dead in trousers and even avoid jeans if you can. Personally, Jungkook thinks you look spectacular in jeans.

Your hair hangs loose, styled pin-straight but tousled slightly by the breeze, and his fingers itch to tuck the stray strands behind your ear. You are engrossed in conversation with Jimin and Minji as the three of you descend the bleacher seats, now heading towards him and your brother. Your brother, who is now holding his helmet under his right arm, uses his left to tug his best friend out of his trance and towards their friends.

You and the Park siblings weave through the amped-up crowd before finally reaching where the co-captains are peeling off their gloves.

Jimin clasps Taehyung's hand, pulling him into a warm, brotherly hug. "That was a fucking game, Tae!" He exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face before giving the same greeting to Jungkook.

Minji follows suit, hugging Taehyung quickly before turning to Jungkook with a playful smirk. “You had us scared for a second, Kook,” she teases, “thought you weren’t gonna make that last shot.”

Jungkook chuckles, returning Minji's hug before leaning back and chucking his helmet on the ground, waiting for you to finish congratulating your brother.

"All part of the show," he replies to the twin with a wink before you pull away from Tae and float to him like second nature.

Nobody bats an eye as your arms slink around his shoulders, linking behind his neck. His taller frame leans down slightly on instinct, and his arms wrap around your waist. His face buries gently into your neck, pulling you a little closer. Your perfume renders Jungkook dazed, and he knows that he is a sweaty mess and smells like one too, but even if you notice, you don't mention it.

"Hi," he mumbles, his breath tickling your skin, causing you to smile and pull away slightly.

"Hi," you echo sweetly, noticing his eyes flicker down to where your coat has parted and your black Hermès mini-skirt peeks through.

You are about to ask him if he likes it because you just bought it yesterday, but he is quick to draw your coat tighter around you, probably not wanting the cold air to nip at you any longer.

He picks up his helmet and gloves, his tattooed arm slipping comfortably over your shoulder as the five of you head towards the locker rooms.

Your head rests against the side of his chest while you walk, and your friends are still beaming about Yonsei's fourth consecutive win of the season. Jungkook slows his steps slightly, letting the rest of your group pull slightly ahead.

"Glad you came," he says softly, his skin tingling as your nails lightly scratch against his shirt where your hand rests around his waist.

"Yeah, you better be," you hum teasingly, "Mingyu was not happy."

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat before forcing out a laugh, "Tell him I'll make it up to him. Take him out on a date myself."

Your giggle soothes the ache in his chest before it returns tenfold at your response, "wasn't a date. Was just going to see him."

"Ohhaahah," his attempt at a laugh comes out more strained than he intends, and you snort, amused by his discomfort.

Before he can protest, you interlock his hand with yours and lead him towards the locker room, his steps quickening to match yours. He follows behind you like a puppy dog, as if this was your locker room and you were showing it to him for the first time.

A chaotic mix of celebration and exhaustion echoes throughout the building as you walk through the door that Tae holds open. The smell of sweaty lacrosse players all but hits you in the face, and Jungkook watches in amusement as your nose scrunches slightly. The warm air is welcoming though, and you let out a sigh as it works to defrost your frozen skin.

The changing room is packed to the brim with sweaty college boys high-fiving, recounting the game's highlights, and shedding off their gear. Jungkook lets go of your hand when you and Minji go over to say hi to Namjoon.

Taehyung is caught up in conversation with the coach, who is commending the team's performance and already running through some things they can work on in preparation for next month's match.

"Jaykayyyyyy!!"

"Let's fucking gooo, Jeon!"

"Good shit tonight, JK!"

You release Namjoon from the hug and turn towards the sudden commotion coming from the other side of the locker room.

Your best friend is at the center of the group, his teammates slapping his back and tousling his hair while showering him with praise. You notice his bunny-like teeth peeking out as he grins. No matter how confidently he carries himself throughout the day, he still flushes at compliments, which makes you roll your eyes amusedly.

Jungkook breaks away from the group and heads to his locker to check his phone while you return your attention to Namjoon and Minji, who are now caught in a quiet conversation.

You head over to Jimin, who looks to be passionately explaining something to Hobi and Yoongi, judging by his broad and exaggerated hand movements. He is a drama major though, so you can never be too sure.

A vibrating noise cuts your journey short. You fish your phone from your coat pocket and begrudgingly slip out of the locker room back into the cold air before answering. "Hey, Gyu."

"Hey, Y/N." Mingyu's tone is low and strained, like he’s in pain almost.

You tuck the strands of hair that were getting picked up by the wind behind your ear. "How can I help you?" you ask.

"Y/N," he grunts out a pained laugh, and you click.

You hear shuffling on the other side of the line while he sits up against his headboard.

"Yes? What do you need?" You're not going to do the work for him, and he knew that. He felt pathetic even making the call in the first place.

He goes quiet for a moment, and you pull your phone from your ear to glance at the time. "It's only 8 pm, and you sound like you're already in bed."

Mingyu nods as if you could see him, "I am. I have been for a while," he admits before asking you how the game was. You know he didn't actually give a shit about the game, but you still entertain him and answer

He drags out the conversation for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair at your voice. He doesn't want to hear it through the phone; he wants to hear it in person. He wants you to be in his room right now, like you said you would be.

Mingyu hates how disinterested you sound. Mingyu also hates how that very disinterested tone makes his cock throb in his sweatpants. You couldn't care less about him, whereas all he's been doing since you canceled on him three hours ago is lay in bed and fucking think about you. He sighs before biting the bullet, "Are you still coming over?"

Your brows furrow slightly, "Oh, I thought I told you that I was—"

"Can you still come over?" He rephrases his question, "please?"

Your lips purse as you consider it for a second. You don't have any classes tomorrow, so you guess you could head to his later tonight.

You're about to respond when the sound of the door opening behind you causes you to turn around.

You watch as the wealthiest student in the entire university approaches you, now dressed in a plain black hoodie and a pair of joggers, running a towel through his wet hair. It no longer looks sweaty wet but instead shampooed wet, so you assume he had a quick shower. "Hey, you okay? Why are you out here in the cold?"

"One second," you say into the phone before lowering it and moving closer to Jungkook. He closes your fur coat tightly around you again as it comes open from the strong wind while he waits for your response.

"Came out here to take a call. Too loud in there."

He nods, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "'K. We're going to Hanji's to eat. Did you want to ride with me?"

You're about to agree without even thinking when you remember the boy waiting on the other end of the call.

"Ah," you mutter, lifting the phone back to your ear. "I'll come over at like 11?" you say to Mingyu, not catching the frown that coats Jungkook's lips.

Mingyu almost protests but knows that 11 is better than nothing and stops himself. "Sweet. Just text me if you need me to pick you up."

You thank him before saying your goodbyes and ending the call. You look up at your best friend, his gaze unfocused. "Can I?" you ask.

"Hmm?" he hums, blinking a few times before focusing on your face.

"Ride with you?"

"Yeah," he smiles down at you, letting you link your arm with his as he leads you back into the warm locker room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Hanji's is loud. The clamor of sizzling grills and busy cooks no match for the chatter of students and customers that fill the room. You sip on an iced tea as your friends laugh and chat, still basking in tonight's victory.

Snug between your brother and Jungkook, you rest your head on the latter's shoulder, sipping your drink through a paper straw. His arm drapes over the back of the booth's chair, allowing you to settle comfortably as he chats with the swim team captain, Jin, who sits on the opposite side of the booth.

Your coat is folded on Jungkook's lap now that you're surrounded by the warm air of the diner, and his tattooed fingers play absentmindedly with the spaghetti strap of your top.

Taehyung leans over and snatches a dumpling from your untouched plate with his chopsticks, causing you to glance at him in faux annoyance. Your brother knows you don't actually care and flashes you a big, toothy grin which you can’t help but return.

You push the plate toward him, wordlessly telling him to have it all and his eyes light up for a split second before his brows furrow. "Why aren't you eating?" he asks concernedly, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of food.

"Ate just before the game, I'm full," you reply, nodding when he asks if you're sure and watching him grab another dumpling.

Liar. Jungkook thinks as he watches Jin's mouth move but is unfocused on the words he's actually saying.

You don't eat before a link, a habit of yours Jungkook is very aware of, having asked you not to do it countless times before.

It's not that deep, you always tell him; you just don't enjoy sex much with a full stomach, it makes you feel sorta sick. And food always tastes better after sex anyway.

He glances down at you for a second, and you're already looking his way, your pretty eyes boring into his as if daring him to mention anything to your brother. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he turns away, attempting to hide his smile at your attitude.

Jin cracks a joke and glances at you for a reaction, prompting you to roll your eyes and laugh. He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly, earning a playful smack from his girlfriend.

Your friends are always like that—acting as if making you laugh is some monumental achievement. You're not a masochist; you don't avoid laughing on purpose. But you're rich, intelligent, and pretty... It takes a lot to impress you. Jungkook makes you laugh a lot though.

Seated next to Jin is his gorgeous high-school sweetheart, Mia, and next to her is your ever-so pouty housemate, Minji. You quietly observe Minji's gaze as it frequently drifts to the booth adjacent to yours, where Yoongi, his boyfriend Hobi, Jimin, and, most importantly, Namjoon are seated.

Minji sighs softly, snapping out of her daze as she looks down at her cider. Taehyung is laughing at something Jin said, leaning forward in front of you slightly to engage in conversation with the swimmer on the other side of the table. You take this moment to check on your friend.

Your head lifts off Jungkook's shoulder, and he resists the urge to turn and ask why, trying to stay focused on the story his Hyung is telling. You catch Minji's eye, offering her a small, questioning smile. She returns it as best she can before her expression morphs back into a troubled pout, and she shakes her head slightly.

You nod in understanding, tapping Jungkook's thigh as a signal that you'll be right back and ask Taehyung to let you out of the booth. Your brother stands, allowing you to shuffle out, and you grasp Minji's hand, tugging her along to the restroom.

Jungkook glances over, watching you usher Minji away from the table, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Namjoon looking over too.

Fifteen minutes go by, and you're reapplying Minji's mascara, which she cried off during her tearful spiel about her situationship.

"It's like h-he—" she pauses to hiccup, and you move the wand away to let her breathe, "—he just likes to mess with my fucking head! Every time we hook up he's all like 'Minjiiiiyahhh,'" you snicker at her imitation of his voice.

"’I can't get enough of you! I wanna do this forever!' but then when we're with everyone, it's like he's scared to even stand next to me! God, is he like, embarrassed of me or something?" She seethes, shaking her head in frustration.

You lift a tissue to her lash line, dabbing at the fresh tears brewing and scoff. "Embarrassed of you? Don't be ridiculous," you say, capping the mascara and sliding it back into her clutch, giving up on the rescue mission as the tears just keep coming.

"You are gorgeous," you turn your body to lean against the basin with her, linking her arm in yours. "Smart," you continue, resting your head on her shoulder. "Funny... sometimes," you tease, and she lets out a tearful giggle, her trembly hands curling around your arm as she snuggles into you in gratitude.

"God, I'm literally wearing his jersey. How pathetic." She laughs at herself, and your brows furrow slightly.

"How is that pathetic? I'm sure he wanted you to wear it, didn't he?"

"Well yeah... He was actually really cute when he asked if I would. He was all shy and shit. Fuck sakes," she groans in frustration, "it makes everything even more confusing!"

"Maybe he's just shy about showing affection in front of people? I mean, he is literally a computer science major..." You trail off and smile when she whines and wacks the arm of yours that she's leaning on.

"Seriously, though, don't cry over a guy, Min. And especially don't question your worth because of him." The bathroom falls silent except for her soft sniffles at your words.

You hand her the tissue that you're holding before adding, "You need to talk and set things straight with him, or you're just going to continue hurting." You internally scoff at the hypocrisy of your own words, but your roommate is none the wiser, nodding at you in agreement.

After a moment, she speaks quietly, "I wish I could be more like you."

"How so?" you ask, though you already have an inkling.

"You never get attached to the guys you hang with. I wish I could do that. It seems so much more freeing."

You hum half-heartedly in response, watching her dab at her eyes one last time before turning to wash her hands. Her words linger, echoing in your mind longer than they should. No, you don't get attached. Because you already know firsthand just how much it fucking sucks when the feelings aren't mutual.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

It's 11:12 pm. The scent of your Chanel No. 5 lingers in the air, blending with Jungkook's soft hums to his car radio. The warm air from the heater makes your eyes droop slightly.

"You have a nice voice," you murmur, toying with the tattooed fingers resting on your stocking-clad thigh.

He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "You always say that," he replies, eyes returning to the road as he stops at a red light.

"Because it's true," you state simply. "Do you disagree?"

He laughs softly at your bluntness, a familiar flush creeping up his neck. "Maybe."

"Hm," you roll your eyes, lifting one of his fingers and letting it drop before repeating the motion with the others. "Whatever, golden boy."

"Ya," he chuckles, squeezing your thigh gently, "don't call me that."

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "You let everyone else call you that."

His lips purse into a slight pout. "Not you."

You blink at him, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile at his big, boba eyes. He just keeps staring at you, letting you fiddle with his hand. After a few long moments, you giggle at his dazed-out expression. "Light's green, Gukkie."

He snaps out of it instantly, facing back toward the road, and his foot hits the gas pedal a little quicker than intended. That's better, he thinks.

A few minutes later, he turns into the familiar entrance of Yonsei University, steering the car down the path that leads to the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house. As he pulls into a parking spot in front of the building, you're halfway through sending a text, so he waits for you to finish before cutting off the heater.

You lock your phone and glance up just as he extracts the keys from the ignition. He pats your thigh gently before climbing out of the car. You follow suit, rounding the vehicle to meet him by the driver's side.

Instinctively, he reaches for your hand, fingers entwining, and you rest your head against his arm as you both ascend the front steps to the frat.

The foyer is dark as Jungkook leads you inside. He maneuvers through the hall effortlessly, even without his sight. He guides you up the stairs to the second floor, your hands still locked together, and he turns to face you when you reach the door to his bedroom.

You look up at him with a dumb smile, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck before he says something dumber. His back presses against the door, and as you lean into him, the scent of his clean, linen hoodie fills your senses.

Jungkook's love language is physical touch, and you let him have his moment, keening slightly when he nudges the side of your neck with his pretty nose. YYour phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it, wanting to spend five more minutes with your best friend.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to be heard by his housemates.

He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head wordlessly, his curls tickling your skin as he does.

"Movie tomorrow then?" you suggest softly, letting him lean back slightly to look at you.

The moment you see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, you know his response before he even forms the words. His pouty lips part, ready to offer an excuse when you squint your eyes and lean away from him.

"Jesus, Jeongguk." You groan, still keeping your voice low, but he can hear the annoyance loud and clear. "Why do you get all pouty and sad when you have other plans? It's okay."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. He edges forward, trying to maintain some form of physical contact, but you just shrug him off. "I already agreed to it last night. I'm sorry, Y/N."

You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes. "Why are you fucking apologizing?" Your words have bite, but he doesn't react, simply leaning closer to you even though you continue to distance yourself.

You know you're overreacting in a sense, but every time he has plans with a girl, he always apologizes with that stupid fucking pout and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes. And it's only when it's with another girl.

You weren't upset; you were well aware of his active sex life. It's like he expects you to burst into tears whenever he tells you he's seeing someone. Why the fuck would you care?

Jungkook reaches out to you in a last attempt to grab your hand, and you just stare at it, not making any move to accept the gesture. He sighs, letting his hand fall to his side while he looks at your pissed-off expression.

"Why?" You try again.

Jungkook's shoulders slump, and he looks down, avoiding your gaze. "I don't know," he responds softly. He barely catches the annoyance on your face fading, soon replaced with something that tugs at his heart even more—boredom.

"Okay then, Gukkie. Sleep well, we'll talk later," you say, nodding as you step closer to him. Your arms wrap around him in a quick hug, and before he can even react, you're walking down to the other end of the hall.

Jungkook's eyes stay focused on the ground, listening to your footsteps getting further away.

It's not until he hears a soft knock on his frat-mate's bedroom door and a fucked-out, "Shitttt, look at you," come from Mingyu that he scoffs, turning into his room and slamming the door behind him.

Thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, as Jungkook lies grumpily on his bed, glaring at his bedroom ceiling.

There was an unmistakable bang of a headboard against the wall down the hall at minute forty-five, followed quickly by your hushed voice telling Mingyu to keep it down. Jungkook hasn't been able to close his eyes since.

"Why are you fucking apologizing?"

Your words ring in his head as he tosses under his blanket uncomfortably, giving up before ripping it off his body a bit too aggressively, causing it to fall to the ground.

"I don't know."

Dirty fucking liar, his subconscious snickers.

Of course he knew. He's always fucking known. It's subconscious; the way he can't stop the apology from spewing from his lips every time.

He wants you to be upset. He wants you to get angry at him for sleeping with other girls. He wants you to ask him not to go.

But you don't. You never do. If anything, you encourage it. And there he is, apologizing like a fucking idiot for something that you don't even care about. Every time he sees that disinterested look in your eyes, it feels like a sour punch to the gut.

Jungkook's mind races as he tries to figure out why he keeps doing this to himself. Why he keeps hoping for a reaction that never comes. He thinks about the way you hugged him earlier, the fleeting moment of closeness before you walked away without a second thought. You're so good at that.

He rolls onto his side, trying for the nth time to close his eyes, the sounds of your muffled laughter and Mingyu's low murmurs mocking him through the thin walls.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, the frustration gnawing at him, a constant reminder of what he can't have. He wants to move on, to stop letting you have this power over him. He laughs at the thought.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Two days later, you're sitting in your afternoon Linguistics class, sandwiched between Jimin and Aerum. Why Jimin didn’t take the spot in the middle if he was going to let her sit near you guys, you’re un-fucking-sure.

Aerum isn't part of your inner circle, but she likes hanging around. You know her type—fake and a gossip. She attempts to make small talk with you throughout the class, but your answers are curt and disinterested.

"—even surprised? As if Jeongguk hasn't slept his way through half the campus already." Aerum giggles, twirling a strand of her hair. That gets your attention.

You don't even look up from your notebook, continuing to jot down what the professor says. "Don't talk about him like that," you say, your tone flat, causing Aerum to falter for a second.

She nervously chuckles, "It's not a secret he gets around, Y/N. You know that..."

Unamused, you finish off your notes, letting her brew for a second, before finally lifting your gaze. You lean in a little, and Aerum shuffles closer as if you were about to let her in on some juicy tea.

"I don't care if he took your mother over the kitchen counter and made you watch." Aerum's lips part at your words, leaning back slightly in shock. "Don't talk about him like that. Matter of fact, don't talk about him at all."

She malfunctions for a second before nodding dazedly, quickly turning to face the front of the class for the first time today. You return to your notebook uninterestedly as Jimin lets out a loud snort, leaning over to hide his face in your shoulder.

The class continues without further interruptions, and when the professor finally wraps it up, you begin putting your things away. Jimin holds your bag for you like he always does as you make your way out of the classroom. Aerum follows behind like a kicked puppy.

With no more classes for the day, you and Jimin had planned to go to the campus café for a study date. Much to your dismay, Jimin had invited Aerum when she overheard you talking about it at the beginning of Linguistics. Jimin is kind to everyone, a trait of his that you somewhat admire, but in this case, it just made you want to slam his laptop shut over his fingers.

Once you reach the café, you find an empty table at the back while Jimin goes to the counter to order your usual drinks, Aerum trailing behind him quietly.

As you set your things down, you notice your phone at the top of your bag. You pick it up, deciding to text Jungkook because you haven't seen him in a couple of days, and you miss him. Maybe he can come study.

It's as if the universe heard your thoughts because suddenly, you feel a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You smile when his familiar cologne reaches your nose and quickly spin around to pull him down into a proper hug.

"I was literally just about to text you," you tell him as he snuggles into your neck.

"You studying?" he murmurs into your skin, his warm breath tickling you slightly.

"Mhm, with Jiminie and Aerum," you reply, leaning back slightly. He scrunches his nose in protest when you pull away but lets you go.

"Cool, I could use a break," he says, his eyes twinkling as he takes a seat next to you, casually slinging his arm over the back of your chair.

"Where were you heading?" you ask as you both settle down, and he helps you spread out your supplies.

"Just dropping some gear off to coach on campus. Saw you through the window," his gaze flickers over your outfit before he smiles softly. "You look pretty."

You smile cutely at the compliment, and his heart skips a beat.

Jungkook suppresses a sigh. You look so sweet in your white cashmere sweater and creamy plaid Burberry skirt, but the way your body fills it out is anything but. Not a single hair out of place, you look sinfully and irrevocably perfect.

Jimin returns with the drinks and almost gets a fright from the lacrosse captain. "Hey, Kook," he says with a grin, handing you your iced coffee.

Aerum, holding her drink, looks slightly flustered but tries to mask it with a smile. "Hi, Jungkook," she says, her voice a little too sweet.

Jungkook nods at her politely before turning his attention back to you. "What subject?" He leans over to grab your textbook, and before you can answer, Aerum takes a seat and chimes in.

"Linguistics," she smiles, and Jungkook nods while flipping through the textbook.

You're logging into Jimin's laptop while he licks the whipped cream from the top of his frappe like a cat. You snort at the blonde before opening the shared doc that he and you have. You're begin to scroll through the pages, trying to find where you left off last time, but the sound of Aerum's continuous pestering distracts you.

"—again tonight or something?" You only catch the end of her sentence, but by the flirty tone she's only just now using, you assume she's speaking to Jungkook.

"Aish, Aerum…" Jungkook laughs awkwardly, flicking through the pages of your textbook as if it would somehow teleport him away from the situation.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you don't do round 2's. Make an exception? For me?" She pouts cutely, and even Jimin can't resist the urge to cringe into his cup.

Jungkook looks over at you for a moment; whether it's for help or a reaction, he doesn't know, but he's not surprised when you don't even look up from the laptop. Just continuing to scroll through your document.

He can't even stop the words from coming out before he says them, "Yeah, okay."

Jimin's brows furrow in surprise. You keep scrolling.

"Yeah?" Aerum can't hide the surprise in her own voice, giddy nonetheless.

"Yeah." He nods at her, looking down at your textbook, wishing it would telepathically lift up and knock him out cold.

An hour flies by, during which you and Jimin make significant progress on the paper, having already completed a quarter of it.

Aerum, however, proves to be an absolute dead weight, giving weak half-assed responses whenever Jimin tries to involve her in the research. Her focus is solely on flirting with Jungkook.

If she even thinks of attempting to slip her greasy little name on this project once you and Jimin are done, you'll take great satisfaction in bringing her back down to reality.

You finish typing a sentence on Jimin's laptop before locking it and giving him a look. He understands immediately and stands up to pack his things wordlessly.

You're beyond irritated—not because Jungkook and Aerum are practically on the verge of fucking right on top of the café table, but because they're doing it while you're trying to work. Frustrated and disgusted, you uncharacteristically bite your tongue and sling your bag over your shoulder.

"You're leaving?" Jungkook's head snaps to you the moment he notices you standing up, and he follows suit, Aerum tagging along behind him.

"Yep," you nod, grabbing Jimin's arm when he extends it to you and heading for the café exit.

"Are you—shit," Jungkook stutters, jogging slightly to catch up to you, Aerum trailing behind him. "Are you guys doing anything tonight?"

You almost roll your fucking eyes, but Jimin responds with a neutral expression, "Yeah, Kook… the DSP gather? We planned it last week?"

"Fuck," Jungkook coughs out, "Yeah, no, I remember."

You continue walking back towards the main campus where Jimin's car is parked, with Jungkook and Aerum not far behind. When you reach Jimin's Audi, you detach from his arm and head for the passenger seat, Jungkook meeting you at the door.

"Did you still want me to pick you up?" he asks softly, watching you adjust your bag strap over your shoulder in boredom while you wait for Jimin to unlock the car.

“No, that’s okay, Guk. I'll come over with Minji. She's on a drinking cleanse after the Feb blackout, so she can drive," you smile, leaning up to give him a quick goodbye hug.

He leans into it, but you don't let him linger, pulling away as soon as you hear the sound of the car unlocking. You go to open the door and climb in, but he gently puts his hand against it to stop you.

"Are you okay? Can you talk to me, please?" he lowers his voice so no one can hear.

Jimin takes the hint and awkwardly gets into the car, telling Aerum to hop in the back and he'll drop her home. She looks at Jungkook for a long moment before reluctantly getting in.

Jungkook's big, worried, boba eyes make you want to both scoff and run your hand over his face until they ease up.

"What do you mean, Gukkie? Just don't want you to go out of your way. You live there, so there's no point in you driving to get me."

Huh? He's picked you up for every single frat party they hold. He doesn't mind. He insists on driving you. He loves driving you! What the fuck?

Jungkook lets his hand fall from the door in resignation, and his heart clenches at the speed in which you pull the handle to open it, like you couldn't wait to get away from him. He somberly takes a step back from the car to let you get in.

You sigh when you glance back at his scrunched eyebrows and pouty lips. You place your bag on the seat and shut the door with a groan before walking back to your sulky best friend.

His response is immediate. His arms link around your waist when you lean into him, his head nestling into your neck where it belongs. Your nails lightly scratch against his polo, and he squeezes you a little tighter.

"I want to pick you up," he says softly. You run your hands down his arms, grabbing them where they link behind your waist. You give them a squeeze as you gently untangle yourself from him.

"I'm riding with Minji. I'll see you tonight, Gukkie." He watches you walk back to Jimin's car and finally get in.

Aerum's eyes are on Jungkook as Jimin pulls out of the campus parking lot. Jungkook's are on you.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

You weren't always as unbothered as you are today at the age of 21.

Maybe it was maturing, maybe it was the pilates sessions you take twice a week, or maybe it was because a particular situation made you vow to yourself you'd never go through that pain again. Well, whatever it was that made you so emotionally detached, you're grateful for it. You're young, gorgeous, and you have a fruitful and prosperous life on the horizon.

Fun is good. Feelings are not.

You shake your head to get yourself out of your thoughts—the thoughts you don't know why are suddenly floating around in your messy little brain—and yell out to your roommate for a favor.

Park Minji and you share a two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of Kim Marriott, the Seodaemun-gu branch of your parents' luxury 5-star hotel chain.

Taehyung was supposed to move in with you during your first year, but when he was appointed Frat President, he chose to stay on-site at Delta Sigma Phi. What a humble boy… you couldn't think of anything worse.

He dragged Jungkook along with him, and you dragged Minji along with you, so everything worked out great. Minji is a lot tidier than your brother, anyway.

You're rummaging through your closet for the shoes you swore you had stored there after your last shopping trip when Minji waltzes into your room, holding the box you've been hunting for.

"These ones, right? They were on the kitchen counter, among all your other unopened packages..." She rolls her eyes teasingly.

"Oh yes! Fuck, I love you," you cry, walking up to the blonde and pulling the heels from the box she holds open for you.

"They're so pretty," she compliments before closing the box and tossing it in the living room to throw away later. She looks back at you as you head to your full-length mirror, slipping on the shoes.

"Jesus, Y/N." Minji groans, and you hum in question, eyeing her through the mirror.

"You look so good, what the fuck..." she whines, walking closer to you and standing side by side in the mirror to check on her outfit as well.

The white bodycon mini-dress hugs your body nicely, its low neckline no match for your bigger-than-average tits as the fabric clings to them for dear life. The white-gold Cartier necklace Jungkook gifted you rests prettily on your chest, just like it always has ever since the night he clasped it around your neck.

2 years prior—circa. your 19th birthday

"Get fucked, Jeongguk." The words rip from your throat, venomous and sharp as they slap your best friend's face into a furrowed, exasperated expression.

You yank the jacket tighter around your shoulders as the cold night air whips at your skin, storming down the sidewalk. The urge to rip the jacket—his jacket—off your body is strong, but it's so fucking cold. You may be petty and possibly overreacting a little right now... but you're not stupid.

Jungkook's heavy footsteps trail after you, his calls of your name only pushing you to walk faster. He catches up in no time, your hurried steps no match for his long strides. He tries to gently grab your arm, but you shrug off his touch angrily, spinning around to glare at him. You're about to tell him to fuck off again when he speaks first.

"Come back inside. It's like a fucking blizzard out here; you're going to freeze to death," he says evenly, though frustration laces his words.

"Oh, please," you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "As if you give a shit if I freeze."

"Don't fucking say—"

"I'm going home. You can tell everyone I'm sick and had to leave. Or don't, I don't fucking care." You turn away and start walking again, his footsteps immediately following.

"You're walking home?" You ignore his question, causing him to huff and run a hand through his hair. "Let me drive you home, please."

You ignore him again, knowing that if there's something Jungkook can't stand more than you yelling at him, it's you not speaking to him.

"Stop doing this. It's your birthday; don't let it end like this—"

"Yes, Jeongguk, it's my birthday," you seethe, whipping back around. "And you brought a random chick none of us even know to my birthday dinner. And you didn't even bother to get me a gift. On. My fucking. Birthday."

"Y/N—"

"Limited edition PlayStation, imported Swedish lacrosse stick, custom painted iPad from your favorite local fucking artist," you list the gifts you've gotten him for his birthday over the years angrily. Jungkook shakes his head, trying to step closer to you, but you hold up your hand to keep the distance.

"Do you even know how much effort I put into the things I get and do for you? And for you to sit there with that... that stupid fucking look on your—God, Jeongguk!" Your voice is on the cusp of being a whine, but you don't care. "Oh, but I'm sure you spent a decent chunk of Daddy's money on Winnie tonight, huh?" You don't care that the Daddy's money statement is also very applicable to you… you're pissed.

Jungkook's jaw clenches at your words, and he steps forward, slipping his hand into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Before you can snap at him again, he pulls out a small velvet box and holds it out to you.

"What is that?" you demand, your voice still trembling with annoyance.

"Your gift," he says softly, opening the box to reveal a white-gold Cartier diamond necklace. "I was planning to give it to you when we were in private."

You stare at the necklace, your anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise. The diamonds of the pendant sparkle under the streetlights, and you almost let out a moan. Diamonds are your weakness.

"You motherfucker," you groan under your breath, glaring at the necklace in hopes it will dissipate into thin air so you can continue being annoyed at him.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice a whisper. "Everyone was coming with their partners, Y/N. I couldn't come alone."

You sigh, knowing that. Your comment was a cheap shot, considering Jungkook doesn't hang with a girl more than once, so it would be impossible for him to bring someone you already knew. But Winnie was getting on your last nerve, and you saw an opportunity to sneak in a jab, so you took it.

Not only was his date clearing glass after glass of the expensive wine your friends had ordered as if it were water, but she was also not shy about ordering the priciest dishes on the menu. Judging by her tiny red Zara mini-dress, you highly doubt she'll be reaching for her purse at the end of the night.

Your gaze is still locked on the necklace as you take a moment to think. Jungkook hasn't moved either, continuing to hold the box open for you while he scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

"It's, um, engraved and shit," he mumbles, his hand not holding the box lifting to run over his jaw nervously. "And I got a chain one… for me too."

Your eyes snap to his, and he swears his heart stops beating. God, you think it's stupid. You hate it. That's okay. He'll just wait until you turn around so he can sprint to the nearest homeless guy and give him the stupid neckl—

"Like matching?" Your eyes soften, and he slowly feels the blood flooding into his heart.

"Yeah, only if you like, want to," he shrugs cutely, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your lips.

You're close enough to slide your arms around his torso but still not near enough for Jungkook as he tugs you closer, melting into the hug. "Thank you, Gukkie. I love it," you murmur into his chest, and he feels his muscles relax at you finally using his nickname again.

You lift your head from his black fitted Givenchy dress shirt, which smells a little too good, to look up at him. "But why did you say you didn't have anything when everyone gave me their gifts?"

He looks down at the slight pout on your lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe it off your mouth. Instead, he flicks the box closed with a thumb and holds it out to you. "Don't think Jaehyun would've been too thrilled with me giving you this," he chuckles. "The dude hates me."

You frown up at him, about to chime in and say that isn't true, but his lips tug into a smirk as if to say he couldn't care less about what your boyfriend thought of him. And honestly, if he were Jaehyun, he'd hate him too.

Jungkook had the necklaces made a little over two months ago, and you and Jaehyun have only been official for one. So, Jungkook's intentions behind the gift weren't malicious, he swears…

If you just so happen to wear the necklace and your boyfriend notices his matching one, which then causes a rift in your relationship, resulting in the two of you breaking up… well, that would just be a nice little coincidence.

"Jae knows you and I are close," you explain with a crease in your brow that he wants to massage until it goes away. "I made it very clear to him when he wanted to get serious, and he understood."

Jungkook nods along to your words even if he doesn't fully believe them. Either Jaehyun is a really good and secure guy, or he's full of grade-A horse shit. If you were his and another dude tried to come along and buy you an eleven-thousand-dollar necklace? Fuck, he'd knock the guy out cold.

You untangle yourself from your best friend and lift the lid of the velvet box still in his grasp. You coo at the pretty diamonds before turning to face away from Jungkook.

You gather your hair before swiping it over your shoulder and letting his jacket fall slightly to bare your neck. Jungkook reacts immediately, picking up the necklace before shoving the box in his pocket. His cold fingers brush against you as he carefully fastens the jewelry around your neck.

When he pulls away, you let your hair fall back into place and turn around to face him again. Your smile is soft, eyes twinkling as you look down at the necklace. "It's so pretty, Gukkie. I love it."

You're so pretty. I love you, he thinks.

With a sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in one of the most casual party outfits you've worn in a while—well, to your standards, at least. For some reason, you just don't feel entirely up for it tonight. Something feels off in your stomach. Or your head. You're not sure. You're probably just getting sick or something.

After slipping into the heels, you stand up straight and smush a kiss on the girl's cheek, smiling at the mark your lip gloss leaves on her face. "Ya, I just did my makeup," she gasps, leaning closer to your mirror to dab off the glossy residue.

You pat her bum gently. "You look gorgeous, Min. Gonna have Joon in tears tonight."

"If he even looks at me," she rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her Miu Miu dress in the mirror.

"You haven't talked to him yet?" You ask as you apply your perfume, and she turns to look at you with guilty eyes.

"No," she sighs, "I will tonight."

"Good," you smile, resting the perfume bottle back on your dresser before grabbing your phone and holding your hand out to her.

She interlocks her fingers with yours as you both leave the suite, the sinking feeling in your stomach never fading.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Welp, there goes your ride home.

You watch in amusement as your roommate throws back her fourth jello shot of the night, washing it down with a gulp of beer.

You don't blame Minji for breaking her sobriety, especially after the first thing you both saw upon walking through the doors of Delta Sigma Phi was Namjoon leaning against the foyer wall with another girl in his arms. While they weren't official official, Minji loves really hard. And you think Namjoon knew that.

Needless to say, Minji instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen, where mountains of various alcohol bottles covered the counter.

Minji's not an alcoholic by any means, but she, just like her twin brother, are quick to take it down and even quicker to bring it back up.

A few months ago, during the Autumn fraternity vs. sorority fundraiser, she got so drunk that she blacked out going down the soapy slip-and-slide.

You and Jungkook—well, mostly Jungkook—carried her all the way to his car. Since he was a sober monitor for Delta Sigma Phi, he drove you both home. He ended up staying at your place for the rest of the night while you slowly sipped on strawberry soju and watched Netflix, checking on Minji every so often.

She hasn't had a drink since that night, so her tolerance is probably super low. But that doesn't stop her from handing you a raspberry jello shot before grabbing another from the table and sucking it down like someone might take it from her.

You giggle, gently wiping away the pink droplet of liquid trailing down the corner of her lip with your thumb. She offers you a dazed smile, her eyes hooded, the effects of the alcohol clearly weaving through her system.

"You okay, Min?"

She beams back at you, a little spark lighting up her glossy eyes, "Mhm. Just wanna have fun tonight."

"Okay," you respond softly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Her head suddenly snaps to the living room. "Oooh, they're playing spin the bottle! Let's go playyy!" Minji gasps, tapping your arm excitedly.

You glance at the game that caught her attention and scan the players. There are a few of your friends, mixed with other people from school whose names you couldn't remember if someone held a gun to your head.

You pat Minji's hand, which was still tapping your arm, telling her to go play and stay close to Yoongi and Hobi. She nods, rushing over to the game with a big smile and plopping down between your friends.

You look down at the jello shot you're still yet to ingest and put it back on the table. Grabbing a solo cup, you pour some cranberry juice into it, glancing at the types of vodkas on display. Your nose scrunches at the cheap brands, your manicured nail tapping the side of the cup in thought before you remember something.

Cup in hand, you make your way to the cupboard below the kitchen sink and pull it open, smiling in triumph as you spot the object of your desire at the back of the cabinet. Bending down, you reach for the bottle quickly before anyone notices you.

"That's off limits."

The familiar smell of his cologne floods your senses before you process his words. You straighten up with a small smile, resting your cup on the counter and turning to face the boy with the pricey bottle of vodka in your hands.

"Even to me?" Your lips pull into a knowing pout, and Jungkook has to force his gaze away from them. Instead, his eyes trail over your outfit, which, in hindsight, was an even dumber idea.

His breath hitches in his fucking throat at the sight of your dress, doing nothing to support your boobs that threaten to spill from the pretty little white fabric. The knot in the noose, though, is the necklace he gifted you on your nineteenth birthday, resting innocently between the valley of your anything-but-innocent tits.

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly as he steps closer to you. You fiddle with the bottle cap while he closes the distance, giving you a moment to drink in how effortlessly his arms fill out his white box-tee.

"No," he says softly, almost laughing at the thought of ever denying you something. "Not you." He takes his bottle of Belvedere from your grasp and unscrews the cap.

You rest against the kitchen sink as your best friend, now less than an inch from your body, reaches around you to grab your cup from the counter. He doesn't say anything as he pours the vodka into the cup, using his familiarity with your favorite drink to know when to stop. Your finger lightly traces over the tattoos spilling from his right sleeve absentmindedly, and he should tell you to stop, or he might drop the cup. But he doesn't.

Once he deems there's enough alcohol in the mix, he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip. You wait patiently, letting him do his little lip purse before splashing a bit more vodka into the cup and holding it out to you. You take it with a grateful smile, bringing the drink to your lips to taste it as he leans over to get a solo cup of his own. You almost groan when the vodka cranberry hits your tongue. Obviously, it's perfect. He’s annoying like that.

Once Jungkook finishes mixing his drink, he takes a mouthful before returning to you. He catches the way your gaze is fixed on the ground, distraction clouding your eyes, cup resting against your lips as you get lost in your head.

You snap out of it almost instantly when he gets closer to you, putting the cup down next to you so you can slink your arms around his neck when he leans down. But before he allows the feeling of you against his body to make him forget every thought inside his brain, he speaks.

"What's wrong?" he murmurs into the skin of your neck, blindly putting his cup on the counter behind you so he can slip his hands around your waist.

You're quiet for a moment, and if it wasn't for the slight stutter in your fingers playing with the clasp of his Cartier chain, he would think you didn't hear him. He doesn't repeat his question, though, knowing you will answer him in your own time. And even if you don't, that's okay too. But he just won't leave your side the entire night if you're feeling vulnerable.

Yeah, nice excuse for not wanting to leave her alone; his subconscious laughs viciously at him. Jungkook ignores it by burying his face into your neck further.

Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck while you take a deep breath, the calming scent of him grounding you. "I don't know," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. "Are you getting sick?"

"Yeah, probably. I've just had this weird feel—"

"Kookie, there you are! I thought you got lost getting my drink—oh, hi, Y/N!"

Jungkook stiffens before he lifts himself from you slightly at the sound of Aerum's voice.

You untangle your hand from his hair, poking your head around the side of his large frame to look at the girl strutting into the kitchen. She's pretty, you think as you give her outfit a once-over. If only she wasn't such an insufferable phony, maybe you'd be a little warmer towards her. Maybe.

"Hey, Aerum," you greet uninterestedly, leaning away from Jungkook and ignoring the way he tries to keep you near him.

Lost in his own house? You internally roll your eyes. Why even bother saying something so stupid—

"Is it this one?" she smiles once she reaches you both, grabbing your cup from the counter and taking a sip. "Oh wow, Kookie, it's so good! Is it vodka? Shit, what brand is this?" Aerum squeaks as she takes another sip of your drink.

Jungkook's lips part as he's about to say something about the drink, but you reply with a bored expression, "Belvedere."

Aerum lets out a confused hum as you name the $300 bottle of alcohol. "Huh. I've never heard of it."

You nod, grabbing a bottle of cheap beer as you brush past her to leave the kitchen. "Exactly."

Jungkook and Aerum's hushed conversation fades into the background as you move further away. You reach the living room, where Minji is giggling between Hobi and Yoongi. She grins widely when she sees you enter the room. "Jagi! Come and play!"

You laugh at your roommate, who now has two more empty Jello shot cups and a bottle of cider beside her, which explains the affectionate nickname.

Once you reach the circle, Yoongi and Hobi lean up to give you a hug in greeting before you smush a kiss on Minji's forehead. "Maybe later, jagi. Have you seen our brothers?”

“Mhm! They went outside for a smoke!” She replies distractedly as she’s staring intently at the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle.

You run a hand gently over her hair before turning to Yoongi. Since he’s sober D for his boyfriend tonight, you ask if he can keep an eye on her while they finish their game and if she needs to go home or gets too much to handle, to come and tell you.

Yoongi nods at you with a smile, and you return it before spotting a familiar head of black hair peeking over the back of the couch on the other side of the room.

Approaching the couch quietly, you softly put your beer on the ground before leaning over and covering his eyes with your hands. Mingyu flinches at the unexpected contact, his phone falling from his hands to his lap, but then relaxes as if something clicks.

His warm hands come up to yours, removing them from his eyes before he turns to you with a stunned smile. He takes you in for a second before shaking his head and leaning up on the couch.

You're about to give him a hug but he suddenly wraps his arms around your body, easily pulling you over the couch and laying you down beneath him. You squeal loudly in surprise before it's replaced by soft giggles as Mingyu attacks your neck with kisses, peppering them over every inch of skin he can find.

You draw a breath when there's a slight break in his assault and gesture to your heels digging uncomfortably into the couch. He leans back immediately and pulls them off your feet, placing them on the coffee table with haste that makes you laugh.

Turning back, he lowers his frame to you, your legs subconsciously separating to let him press closer, and he resumes his work on your neck. His kisses move lower, and you let out a sigh at the feeling before he reaches the exposed skin of side-boob peeking from your dress. You let out a quick gasp, grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him up to your face.

He grins at you cheekily, knowing he wouldn't get far but can't find it in himself to regret the action. "Was wondering when you'd get here," he says softly, his voice filled with affection. Your pouty fucking lips covered in that pretty fucking lip gloss distracts him for a moment, and he breathes a dazed sigh, leaning down to rest his face on your chest.

You blame it on the alcohol when the sick feeling in your stomach suddenly returns at the touch of Mingyu's skin on yours.

You blame it on the alcohol when all you can think about as you run your fingers through Mingyu's hair is how it's not as soft as Jungkook's.

You blame it on the alcohol when you let Mingyu snuggle closer into your neck in hopes that you'll feel the same warm sensation as when Jungkook does it.

The nausea, the thoughts of your best friend while you have a gorgeous man on top of you, the pounding in your head as his lips get closer and closer to your necklace. You blame all of it on the alcohol.

The one single sip of fucking alcohol you've consumed tonight.

"Can you pass me my beer, please?" You choke out as his lips are a millimeter away from reaching the skin where your necklace sits.

Mingyu pulls back with a smile, and you almost want to frown at the sweet boy. He deserves so much better. "It's just on the ground over there," you point to the back of the couch, and he nods, leaning over and grabbing your drink.

You release a heavy breath while you play with the hem of his dress shirt when something catches your attention from the corner of your eye. Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric.

There, leaning with his back against the living room wall, is your best friend with Aerum's lips attached to his neck like a blowfish. Jungkook's brows are furrowed, most likely in pleasure, and his eyes are squeezed shut.

Another wave of the sick feeling washes over you, and you almost let out a frustrated grunt. What the actual fuck is going on with you?

Mingyu leans back on the couch, now with your beer in his hand. Before he can open the cap for you, you snatch it from his hand and toss it to the carpet carelessly. He looks at you curiously, about to ask you what's wrong, but you sit up and swing your leg over his thigh, effectively lodging the words in his throat.

His brows shoot up in surprise before he catches on, his hands finding your waist when you don't waste time pressing your lips to his. Mingyu groans into your mouth when you suckle on his tongue lightly, starting to move against him. Your dress begins to ride up with your movements and deepen the kiss while simultaneously grinding harder into his lap. You can feel him getting harder through the fabric of his jeans, and you zone in on it.

Squeezing your eyes closed tighter to focus, you drag yourself over his covered cock, letting the zipper of his pants graze against your panties. Mingyu detaches from your lips at the sensation, his head throwing back onto the couch as his breathing picks up.

Your hands rest against his chest as you swivel your hips quicker, trying everything you can to spark something in you. Mingyu chokes out a strained fuck when you find the outline of his shaft and let the lips of your covered pussy drag along it.

Nothing. You feel nothing. What the fucking fuck.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is losing himself. His head is still thrown back in pleasure, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and latch your lips to his neck. Your teeth nibble at the skin below his jaw, and he shivers at the action, his hands losing grip on your waist and falling to the swell of your ass. Your movements still haven't relented, grinding against him like you're the only two in the room, and Mingyu doesn't want to admit just how fucking close he is.

He's about to suggest that you guys take it to his room when he feels one of your hands trail down from his chest. His head lifts up to see what you're going to do next, and god, he wishes he didn't, because when you cover the hand of his that's loosely resting on your left asscheek and squeeze? He almost cums in his fucking pants like a teenage boy that just discovered the wonders of third base.

Mingyu does as you wish, grabbing a greedy handful of the flesh with his left hand and uses his right to slide up the back of your neck, returning your mouth to his. You fall into the kiss willingly, letting him lick into your mouth. Letting him take whatever he wants. Mingyu has always been a good kisser. Not even a week ago, he had you dripping from a 10-minute make-out session on his bed. But right now, something inside you tells you that even if you went at it for an hour, it still wouldn't be enough.

You push the sadistic thoughts from your brain and tangle your hands in his hair, nodding against his lips when his hand on your neck drops to your other asscheek and squeezes tightly.

Yes, you think. Touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Something is bound to—

"What the fuck?"

Your lips immediately detach from Mingyu's at the sound of the familiar voice booming behind you. You adjust the front of your clothes, which have twisted out of place, and quickly climb off Mingyu's lap. Pulling down the hem of the dress that also rode up a few minutes ago, you blink guiltily at the man staring at you with a disturbed look.

"On my couch? That's disgusting. Take it upstairs or take it to your place, Y/N." Taehyung grits, shaking his head as if it would somehow rid the image of you mounting his frat-mate from his memory.

"Sorry, Tae," you reply to your brother with a purse of your lips before getting over it and looking around for your phone that fell from the pocket of your cover-up.

Mingyu is speechless, gawking at his frat president in horror, not knowing what to say or do. He watches as you finally find the phone wedged between the couch cushions before you lean back onto his chest and scroll through your notifications, un-fucking-concerned.

Mingyu chokes on air, gently lifting you off him and sitting you back up on the seat properly. You give him a confused look, and he returns your gaze with a panicked expression, glancing between you and your brother, who is still standing there glaring at him.

You roll your eyes, lifting Mingyu's arm and throwing it over your shoulder, returning to your previous position. "Don't take him seriously, Gyu. I can't even recall how many times I've accidentally walked in on him and my own friends from high school. And they were doing a lot more than dry humping."

The fact that you aren't bothered helps Mingyu to calm down a bit, but he's still on edge with your brother staring him down.

You glance up at Mingyu when his chest remains stiff beneath your head, and you sigh before turning to your brother. "Tae, you're scaring him. We won't do anything else on your couch, okay? Now shoo, please." You wave him off with your hand.

Your brother just rolls his eyes, looking a little too much like you for your liking, before he nods and says he'll return to patrol the room in 30 minutes.

You watch Taehyung disappear behind the door frame as he heads into another room, and you turn to Mingyu with a teasing grin. "30 minutes? We could be done twice in that time…"

His eyes widen, and he gives another pathetic attempt at suggesting you go upstairs, but when you press your lips to his, the words fizzle out on his tongue as you entwine it with your own.

Jungkook is fucking fuming.

He's absolutely clocked out of the make-out session with Aerum, and she can probably tell that his mind is elsewhere, but he can't bring himself to care, and she makes no move to pull away either.

He feels her getting angsty, desperately wanting to escalate the situation from the way she's pressing harder against him, but Jungkook keeps the pace steady.

He needs to stay in the living room to keep an eye on you because you're obviously not in the right state of mind right now. You're not drunk; he knows what you look like when you've been drinking, and you're basically stone-cold fucking sober. But yet, there you are, one layer away from riding his housemate's cock on his very own fucking couch.

Jungkook would have intervened a long time ago, had he not seen with his own eyes that you were the one initiating every part of the act.

With every swivel of your hips, Jungkook’s heart pounded furiously against his chest. It clenched with every firm squeeze Mingyu placed on your ass, and it shattered completely as you nuzzled into Mingyu’s neck, kissing and nipping at it, just like you did to him in his dreams most nights.

He can’t tear his gaze away. He’s tried—oh, how he’s fucking tried.

He attempted to focus on the pretty girl currently whimpering into his mouth, begging him to touch her, to take her right there in the middle of the room if he so desired. But he couldn’t. His eyes were uncontrollably drawn back to you, to the way Mingyu’s hips lifted to meet yours, each movement a sharp twist to the knife lodged in his pathetic heart.

"Shit," Mingyu groans when the curve of his cock straining against his jeans meets your covered core. "We needa go upstairs, or I'm gonna take you right here on the couch, Y/N."

Your laugh comes out breathy from the frantic movements of your hips as you ignore him, and you lean up so his face can nuzzle between your tits. Your boobs are very sensitive, and that usually does the trick to turn you on.

Why. Isn't. It. Turning. You. On.

You let out a frustrated groan that Mingyu mistakes as a moan of pleasure as he leaves wet kisses against the exposed skin of your tits before he reaches the necklace that's wedged between them. "Fuck, I love this. It's so pretty but looks so dirty on you."

Your skin suddenly fires up at his words, and you feel your hips stutter slightly. "Yeah?" you question in a rush, grinding harder against him to chase the feeling.

"Mhm," he nods, brushing his nose over the pendant.

"Bite it."

He looks up at you, his gaze locking with yours filled with a hunger that hadn't been present all night.

"Bite it?" he repeats, his voice a mix of confusion and intrigue, hips meeting yours halfway as your movements become sloppier, more desperate.

Your head tilts as you nod desperately, "Please bite it."

Mingyu's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he leans in, his lips grazing the skin near your necklace. Your breath catches as he nears the pendant with its two little conjoined rings. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the whine that threatens to escape.

He plants a lingering kiss on the surrounding flesh before finally catching the pendant between his teeth. You can't hold back the loud moan that escapes your lips—

It happens in the blink of an eye.

You tumble onto the couch cushions as Mingyu is abruptly yanked away and thrown to the living room floor.

You watch in shock as Jungkook pounces on him instantly, Mingyu barely having a moment to react before Jungkook's fist comes crashing down. It connects with Mingyu's jaw with a sickening crunch that reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of a few partygoers.

Mingyu attempts a recovery, throwing a jab that snaps Jungkook's head to the side, but Jungkook quickly regains his focus. He reels his fist back and hammers another brutal punch into Mingyu's face, then another, then another, then another.

Jungkook doesn't know how many punches he's thrown, or how long he's been on top of his housemate, or whose arms grab him from behind to pull him off Mingyu.

His breathing comes in ragged gasps, his knuckles sting with a throbbing pain, and a fierce rage burns through his veins, consuming him entirely. Adrenaline surges through him as he watches Yoongi and Hobi lift a bloodied, struggling Mingyu off the ground.

"What the fuck, Kook?" Taehyung's voice snaps him out of his daze as he and Jimin drag him to his feet.

You remain frozen on the couch, not shifting an inch. Your gaze is fixed on Mingyu as a cluster of people surround him. One person carefully presses a damp rag against his bloodied face while he leans heavily against the wall, another extends a bottle of water towards his shaking hands.

From the grasp of your brother, Jungkook's eyes follow you as you rise and weave through the crowd around Mingyu.

His heart clenches as he watches the pained expression on your face, the saddest he's ever seen. He watches as you whisper something to Mingyu, who shakes his head weakly and reaches out to pull you closer. Instead, you gently grasp his hand, stroking his knuckles with your thumb as tears start to pool in your eyes.

He sees the moment you utter one final word to Mingyu before you let his hand drop softly to his side and walk away

You return to the coffee table, grabbing your shoes and phone before immediately heading for the exit. You spot Minji, who has tears flowing down her cheeks, and she breaks from Yoongi's hold before pulling you into the tightest hug she can muster.

"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay? What the fuck was that?!" she cries into your shoulder. You almost smile, knowing her emotions always spill over when she's been drinking, but you couldn't muster one even if you tried. Gently pulling away, you dab at the tears under her eyes before turning your attention to Yoongi.

"Can you take her home, please? I'm going to catch an Uber and I feel like being alone for a bit," you half-lie. You're going to walk home, but he doesn't need to know that. He wouldn't let you walk alone at this time.

"Y/N," Yoongi sighs. He didn't miss the way you dodged her question. He wants to urge you to let him drive you home as well, but the resolve in your eyes tells him you won't budge. "Yeah, I'll make sure she gets home safe."

"Thank you," your voice cracks slightly at the end as you squeeze his hand and leave the room before he can stop you.

You can hear footsteps trailing behind you as you reach the door, and you abandon the mission of slipping into your heels, quickly slipping out the door and slamming it behind you.

The cold concrete bites at your bare feet as you hurry down the steps of the frat house, but you barely notice. The sound of the door swinging open behind you only quickens your pace.

"Please, Y/N. Wait. Please."

The tears you've held back since the moment he climbed on top of Mingyu suddenly fall without your permission, and you scoff, wiping them away furiously.

You don't say anything as you reach the path out of the university and continue your trek to your penthouse. It's dark, the sparse lights of the school providing little guidance, but you don't care. You just keep walking.

When Jungkook catches up to you and tries to take your hand, something inside you explodes. You snatch your arm away furiously, your heels and phone dropping from your hands as you turn to face him. Before you know what you're doing, you push against his chest, shoving him away from you. He barely moves and that makes you even angrier. “Fuck you, Jeongguk!” You shove him again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you."

Your voice trembles on the last words, and you can't stop the sob from wracking your body. He reacts instantly, stepping forward to pull you into his arms as you break down.

His hands cradle the back of your head as you shake against his chest, his heart clenching at the sound of your cries. "I'm so sorr—"

You pull away from him, running your sleeve over your face to wipe at the tears. "What about your future, Jeongguk? What if he presses charges? If this gets back to your parents? Affects your student record?" You shake your head in utter disbelief, your hands running through your hair in an attempt to ground yourself. "Mingyu is such a good guy, how could you even—fuck." Mingyu.

Your heart clenches at the memory of him trying to keep you close even after he had the shit beaten out of him. You brought him into this mess. That was all fucking you.

"You can't do shit like that, Jeongguk! You c-can't," you stammer, batting his hand away as your voice cracks again, "You had no right to do that."

"I know, Y/N!" His voice rises, and you see tears welling in his own eyes. "I fucking know! I know I didn't have any right to do that. And I fucking hate it!"

You're speechless, but Jungkook isn't finished, "I had no right to punch Lee Seo-jun when he gave you your first kiss, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Kang Doyun when you told me he felt you up for the first time, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Jeong Jaehyun every time I watched him have you like I wanted to have you, so I fucking didn't!"

Tears stream down your face unchecked as Jungkook's hands gently cup your face, his thumbs trembling as they try to wipe your tears away. "I had no right to punch Mingyu because he has everything I want. But I did. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I don't fucking regret—"

"I hate you."

Jungkook doesn't know what to do when he hears you say those words. He stumbles back slightly, his throat tightening, and his heart slams against his chest so hard he thinks it's about to crack through his skin.

A trembly shake of his head, "No—"

Your tears stop as abruptly as they came, your gaze hollow and resigned. "We need some space. This is unhealth—"

"No, please," the tips of his ears turn red as he chokes back a sob, "I fucked up, baby, I know. I'm gonna fix it. Let me fix it. I don't want space, I-I can't have space," his words tumble out desperately, completely unaware of the nickname that slips out. But it doesn't matter; nothing does, if you leave him.

You pull your face from his grasp and take a small step backward. The weak light posts give you just enough vision to see his bloodshot eyes and broken expression. Your hand twitches, yearning to brush his hair away from his face and wipe his tears—the tears he's crying for you.

Don’t be fucking stupid, your subconscious snarls.

Those tears aren't for you. They're for the idea of you.

If he doesn't have you, who's he going to cuddle up to at night when he's bored and doesn't have a pussy appointment to get to?

Who will pass on his Instagram handle to their classmates when they rave about his insane dick game and want to try it for themselves?

Who will drag him to mandatory family gatherings, knowing his dad would slash his trust fund for missing yet another one?

Not Kim Bora, his first kiss, a week before your own with Lee Seo-jun.

Not Park Soojin, the first girl he felt up under the shirt, three days before you let Kang Doyun do the same to you.

Not Cho Eunji, the only girl he ever took on a second date, the night that you made things official with Jeong Jaehyun.

You spent countless nights crying over a boy who saw you merely as a friend. The little sister that tagged along to playdates because her brother wasn’t allowed to have fun without her. The spoiled daughter of his father’s closest friend, who he was obligated to protect at school because she never hesitated to voice her blunt opinions, especially to those she thought sucked.

The same girl who saved the most sacred part of herself for her best friend. The girl who, without hesitation, turned down every single guy who promised they'd cherish such a precious gift. The girl who prayed to a God she didn't even believe in, hoping Jungkook would realize that the person who loved and cared for him most was right before his eyes all along.

All for that very boy to carelessly give his innocence to some random chick at a high school party, not even bothering to call her the next day.

That was the moment your perception of love shifted. That was the moment you stopped looking for what his words and touches could mean, and started seeing them for what they were. Friendly. Insincere. Meaningless.

You thought the day Jungkook confessed his feelings would be the happiest of your life. You imagined it would erase all the pain, all the tears, as if they were nothing more than a pathetic nightmare.

But you don't feel happy. You feel angry. Angry that the words you've longed to hear don't make you want to fall into his arms and never leave. Instead, they make you want to run and never come back.

So you do exactly that.

You ignore your phone and shoes lying on the pavement. You ignore your best friend's croaky shout of your name. You ignore that the stony road leading away from the University grounds only grows darker and darker the further you go. You ignore the sharp ache in your feet from the rocks beneath your bare soles. And you run.

You run faster than you ever have in your entire life. You run until your legs burn, unused to anything but your two weekly low-impact fucking pilate sessions. You run until Jungkook's yelling fades into the distance behind you.

You run until you can almost see the lights of the main street. You run until you hear his footsteps gaining on you, the stupid lacrosse captain clearing the distance twice as fast as you ever could. You run until the thumping of your heart drowns out the pain of the sticks and rubble digging into your feet.

You run until the light gets brighter. You run until the light gets closer. You run until you realize they aren't streetlights. You run until you realize it's the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. You run until you can't stop yourself quickly enough. You run until you hear the scream of your best friend behind you. You run until you don't feel the impact of the hit. You run until the world around you fades to black.

Your head hits the pavement hard, bouncing slightly.

Jungkook's arms are around you in an instant, cradling you close as he sobs, "No, no, no, baby, please."

The driver of the car, a college kid who looks just as shaken, gets out to check on you, his face pale and stricken.

"Go to the frat house and get Taehyung. Now." Jungkook barks at the boy, though his eyes never leave your face.

The kid nods frantically, dashing back towards campus, stumbling in his haste. Jungkook pays him no attention, his tears falling onto your face as he holds you tighter.

"Hold on, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over his sobs. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

You lay limp in his embrace, your breathing shallow. His tears mix with the dirt and blood on your face as he presses his forehead against yours, his entire body shaking with sobs. He holds you tighter, rocking back and forth as he brushes the hair away from your face.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he sat there in the dark, the cold night air wrapping around you both. What was realistically no more than two minutes felt like two hours. The distant sounds of the campus were muffled, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Jungkook's tears didn't stop, his heart breaking more and more with each passing second of your silence.

"Ow, fuck." You groan weakly.

Jungkook's grip tightens as he lifts his head. "Y/N," he chokes softly, his hand supporting your head as you try to sit up. "D-Don't try to move too much. We're gonna—we're gonna get you to the hospital, okay?"

You looked at him, your eyes filled with confusion and pain. "Did I really just get hit by a fucking car?"

He shook his head with a teary laugh, his fingers gently caressing your hair. "No," he sniffled. "I managed to tackle you b-before... But you hit your head when we fell. I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, your hand resting on his head when he rested it on your chest, and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

His breathing stops, and he looks at you with the most saddened expression you've ever seen. "W-why the fuck would you say that? Don't apologize. None of this is your fault," Jungkook shook his head, his tears falling anew.

"I'm sorry for saying I hate you," you said softly, your hand resting on the side of his neck as he trembled. "If anything’s going to teach me of all people a lesson, it’s a near-death experience...” You let out a pained laugh, “Would hate if that was the last thing I ever said to you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "Y/N, you don't know how much I l—"

The sound of frantic footsteps interrupts him. Taehyung's voice calls out in panic, and within moments, he’s kneeling beside you, his face a mix of fear and relief.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," he said, his voice shaking as he quickly assesses your condition. "C'mon, we need to get you to a hospital," he says through teary eyes.

With Jungkook's help, you managed to get to your feet, leaning heavily on him for support. Taehyung saw you struggling to keep your balance and quickly scooped you into his arms, jogging over to his car he left running. He gently placed you in the backseat, and Jungkook was on the other side in an instant, getting you comfortable while your brother rushed to the driver's seat.

As you drove to the hospital, Jungkook didn’t let go of your hand.

Not as he forced you to drink from the water bottle Taehyung passed back to you. Not as he leaned your head on his chest, gently inspecting your scalp for any severe cuts or bleeding. Not as you grunted at him when he jiggled you slightly every time you closed your eyes for a second too long, worried that you were losing consciousness.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

"You've got a mild concussion," Dr. Choi said with a reassuring smile, her voice calm and professional. "You were fortunate. Your head hit the ground hard, but thankfully, there are no signs of severe trauma or bleeding."

Beside you, Jungkook's grip on your hand tightened. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze fixed anxiously on the doctor. "So, she's going to be okay?"

In the cushioned armchair next to your hospital bed, your brother shifted slightly in his sleep. You reached over to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, careful not to wake him.

Lately, his roles as frat president, lacrosse captain, and his involvement in the family business had worn him thin. The exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he settled into the chair. This really is the last thing he needs to be doing, and so with a final look of guilt, you let your brother rest and turned back to Dr. Choi.

Dr. Choi responded to Jungkook with a nod. "Yes, she'll be fine," she assured him. "Concussions can cause symptoms like dizziness, headache, nausea, and fatigue. She might feel drowsy and out of sorts for a few days, but with rest and avoiding any strenuous activities, she should recover fully within a week."

You blinked, your head still throbbing but feeling a bit more relieved. "So, I can go home?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed, writing some notes on your chart. "I'm going to release you shortly. Make sure you rest, avoid any physical exertion, and stay hydrated. If you experience any worsening symptoms—like severe headache, vomiting, or confusion—come back immediately, okay?"

Jungkook gave the doctor a firm nod. "We will."

Dr. Choi smiled at him, a soft expression on her face. "Good. And make sure she avoids screens for a bit—no phones, no computers, no TV. Just rest."

You groan while Jungkook just signals his understanding.

As the doctor turned to leave the room and finalize your discharge papers, she glanced back with a knowing smile. "And maybe a break from the drama for a little while too?"

Jungkook's head hung low as he continued to gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

"No more boys and no more running into traffic, got it. Thanks, doc." You nodded at the middle-aged woman, who gave you one last amused look before leaving the room.

That was six days ago.

The throbbing ache and, more importantly, the big ugly bump that was once on your forehead have now almost completely faded. If it hadn't, and you were stuck with a permanent scar on your face, you would've hunted down the kid who nearly hit you with his car and told him to finish the job.

Speaking of that kid, he tried to reach out to you quite a few times since you've been absent from classes. He couldn't get in direct contact with you since Jungkook had confiscated all of your devices, but he was persistent. He bugged almost every person he knew to be a close friend of yours until finally, on the second to last day of your 'quarantine', being the chronic people-pleaser that he is, Jimin cracked and brought him to your penthouse.

You were lounging on the sofa, your head resting in Jungkook’s lap as he read aloud to you, when Jimin ushered him in. You felt Jungkook stiffen instantly, and it took your sitting up and pressing down on his thigh to keep him from lunging at the poor boy.

His name is Lee Yongbok, an exchange student from Australia. He's a freshman, 19 years old, and his Korean dialect is fucking adorable.

Yongbok’s eyes were brimming with tears when he saw you, apologies tumbling from his lips for what felt like an eternity before you gently cut him off.

You first asked him if he was crying at your appearance and he just shook his head with a wobbly lip and said he’s just really happy to see you. Thank god. You were worried there was another bump somewhere that Jungkook hadn’t told you about.

You told him it was okay, that it wasn't his fault. That you were the crazy lady who ran in front of his car. That he did nothing wrong.

He dropped to his knees at your kindness, something nobody had ever done before. In fact, "kind" was probably the last word anyone would ever use to describe you.

He offered to pay for any medical bills, any necessities, anything you might need or couldn't afford. You giggled at the thought.

You thanked him for coming to see you. You told him not to lose any sleep over it, that you're okay and he's okay. You gave him your number and told him that when your grouchy caregiver returns your phone, you'd send him a text.

When he was about to depart, he asked if he could give you a hug. You nodded, telling him to come closer because Jungkook's hand was not letting go of your waist.

Yongbok happily pulled you and Jungkook into a joint hug since he refused to move. Jungkook reluctantly participated, giving the kid a pat on the back while he snuggled you both and you couldn't stop the loud laugh that escaped your lips.

Yongbok thanked you one last time before he left with Jimin and Minji, telling you to please let him know if you think of anything you may need. What a sweet boy.

Aside from making amends with Yongbok, and your close friends visiting your penthouse throughout the week to bring your schoolwork and random gifts, you haven’t had much interaction with the outside world.

You haven’t seen Mingyu since that night.

In person, at least. You've been texting frequently and even FaceTimed a few times. His eye was healing well, for which you’re very grateful.

The night Jungkook brought you home after the hospital, you found several missed calls from Mingyu on your phone that Yoongi delivered when he saw it on the ground outside whilst taking Minji home.

Your device ban hadn’t started yet, so you called him back immediately and spent over two hours talking and crying. You apologized for everything you had dragged him into, and he insisted you had nothing to be sorry for.

Mingyu truly is the kindest and most gentle soul, and you’ll always regret hurting him the way you did.

During that conversation, he told you he loved you.

Even though it took a messed-up situation to realize it, you knew you had love for Mingyu too. He had always been there for you whenever you needed someone, whether the nights you spent together were fueled by lust and sexual frustration or not, they were meaningful and amazing. He made it so easy to love him, even if your feelings couldn’t match the depth of his.

Mingyu had undoubtedly gotten the short end of the stick in your relationship, always giving more than he received. In your newfound friendship, you are determined to make it up to him. And you will.

Jungkook, too, had been deeply affected by the night’s events. After you finished up with Mingyu, Jungkook took your phone when you handed it to him and disappeared for an hour.

As far as you know, Jungkook apologized and they talked it out. Neither of them like going into much detail with you about it, which is a little frustrating, but you respect their privacy and don’t push further.

Jungkook did come back into your room with red puffy eyes though, and you softly teased him about crying before you snuggled up together and watched a movie.

Jungkook had taken a week off classes to look after you. You rolled your eyes when he first told you, not taking him seriously. But when you woke up the next day, cuddled against his chest while he scrolled through his TikTok feed, you started to believe him.

And when you tried to lean up and see what he was watching, only for him to immediately turn the device away, adhering to the doctor's orders of no screens, you realized just how serious he was.

Over the past six days, you've fallen into a stupid little domestic routine. Now, as you're almost fully recovered and preparing to return to classes tomorrow, a grey cloud looms over you both. The topic you haven't dared to address since that night is getting closer, heavier. You can both feel it.

That's why, as Jungkook slowly packs his clothes into his overnight bag in preparation for tomorrow and you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your nails, the room is enveloped in a heavy silence.

You knew it was a bad idea to let him stay. To ignore everything that should've been sorted the first morning after the incident. But instead you chose to live in blissful ignorance for six days while you play fucking house.

But come on. Having Jungkook dote on you and care for you for an entire week? Please, that's every female student at Yonsei's wet dream. Quite a few guys, too.

You look up from your nails as he zips up his bag, kicking it to the corner of the room before resting the clothes he'll wear tomorrow on your dresser. He looks over at you, walking to the edge of the bed. For the first time in all the years you’ve consciously known him, he hesitates to touch you.

You blink at him, not moving, not saying anything.

Finally, Jungkook breaks the silence, his voice quiet and raspy, "Should we talk?"

You swallowed, nodding slightly. "Okay."

He sits down beside you, close but not touching. "I meant it, you know. Everything I said."

You hesitate, your gaze fixed down on your painted toes. "And what did you say?"

You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He brushes some hair—that's growing out nicely as you put it—behind his ear before taking a deep breath. He can't fuck this up.

"I've been in love with you since I learned what love was."

The room goes silent. Neither of you dare to even breathe.

"Wha-huh?"

"I've been in love with you ever since I learned what love was," You repeat.

You finally look at him, and he can't decipher the expression on your face. His eyes flicker between yours, searching for any sign that this is a prank, that Minji is about to burst in with a camera and tell him he's on live television.

"Maybe even before that," you continue, "but I just didn't know what it meant."

Jungkook’s heart races, each beat erratic and intense. He feels like he's about to pass the fuck out.

"No," he croaks.

You blink, "No?"

"No," he shakes his head, "you can't. Y-you can't be. That's not—you're n—what—what the fuck?"

You watch, silent, as he struggles with your revelation, the weight of your words clearly unsettling him.

Oh, you think. You've freaked him out by dropping the L word.

Well, you definitely misread the room there.

It’s not like you haven’t said "I love you" before. You tell each other that often enough—when he drops you off somewhere, at the end of your phone calls, when you give each other random gifts that remind you of the other.

But "I'm in love with you"? Yeah, that one’s a bit new…

Your stomach tightens, but you stay quiet, watching as his hand moves desperately through his hair, as if he doesn’t know what to do.

After a few minutes, he stops and turns to you. He didn't plan for it to go this way. He doesn't know what to fucking do.

You sigh, “I know this changes shit. Ruins everything. I thought I had it under control, but I really don't. And I'm not strong enough to keep pretending. So, if you're okay with still being in each other's lives, we need to set some clear boundari—"

"I fucking love you, Y/N." He kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands into both of his larger ones. "I've been obsessed with you since your mom brought you over to my house when we were five, and you told me my eyes looked like boba pearls."

You look into his eyes as he says that. They really do remind you of tapioca pearls…

"I can't remember a single day of my entire life where I haven't been in love with you. There is no me without you. You are all I can see when I think of my past and all I can see when I think of my future. No matter what you are to me, you're there. In every plan I make. In every dream I have. It's you. It's always been you."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fighting back tears. You’ve cried more in the last week than you have in your entire adult life.

"We are so fucking stupid." You sniffle, tipping your head back slightly to try and blink the tear up into your duct.

"We are," he agrees, gently tilting your head down and running his thumb under your lash line to catch the tear.

Once your face is dry, Jungkook's thumb travels down and brushes lightly over your bottom lip. He smiles when it feels exactly as he had imagined, another item mentally ticked off his bucket list.

You're about to ask if he's high when he suddenly springs into action, tackling you back onto the bed. You bounce slightly against the mattress as he holds himself up, careful not to squash you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you try, and fail, to suppress a smile at the idiot above you.

"It fucking sucked seeing you with other guys," he confesses, the words he’s been holding back for years finally breaking free.

Your fingers dance across his back, tracing idle patterns on the fabric of his shirt as you respond, “It fucking sucked seeing you with other girls.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, a pout on his lips. "You should've told me, and I would've—"

“You should've told me!” you interject, giving him a playful smack on the chest. His frown deepens for a moment before breaking into a wide, uncontrollable grin.

He buries his head back into your neck, and you can feel him smiling against you. "You're such a loser," you giggle as you feel his teeth on your neck, not in a sexy biting way but because he's literally fucking grinning against you.

Time slips by quietly as your fingers sketch invisible designs across his back. Eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you think we knew?” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Hmm?” you hum, your hand pausing in its motion to thread through his hair.

He shivers slightly under your touch before elaborating, “Do you think we knew that we were in love with each other?”

Your movements resume, alternating between letting his hair slip through your fingers and gentle scalp scratches. “Yeah, I think so."

He nestles closer, the sensation of your nails against his scalp coaxing a suppressed groan from him. "Why do you think we didn't say anything?"

"I don't know," you reply honestly. "Maybe we were too comfortable. Or maybe we were scared of what it would actually mean."

Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, searching your eyes for answers. “What does it mean?” he asks quietly.

You smile, continuing to play with his hair. “You have a lot of questions,” you tease gently.

His nose scrunches at your evasive reply, and you run your finger down the bridge of it. "Such a pretty nose," you hum.

His eyes flutter shut at the touch, then snap open again. “You’re distracting me.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Am I?"

He nods, making no move to stop the traces of your digit along his face. When your finger brushes the edge of his lip, he turns his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your finger, his actions drawing a gentle smile from you.

"You don't—do you not want to," he starts, hesitating mid-sentence before pushing himself to continue, “be with me?”

You bite your lip thoughtfully, finishing your gentle explorations of his face, your hand settling back onto his back. “I want to be with you more than anything else in the world, Gukkie.”

He lets out a breath of relief at your words, but his face falls slightly when he senses your hesitation. "But?"

"But," you say softly, "I'm scared. I'd rather have you in my life as my best friend than not have you at all if things don't work out."

He shakes his head, his hand cupping your face gently. “I told you. No matter what you are to me, I want you in my life. Isn’t that the same for you?”

"Of course it is, but you can't guarantee we'll feel this way in—"

“You’re such a beautiful,” he interrupts, planting a soft kiss on your jaw, “intelligent,” another on your neck, “incredible,” he continues down to your collarbone, “pessimist.” He finishes with a kiss just above your heart.

He gazes up at you with a mischievous grin as you narrow your eyes at him. "I will always want you in my life, no matter what shit ends up happening. Even if you tell me you hate me, or you like, fuck my dad or something…" He looks at you seriously, and you roll your eyes, unable to stifle your snicker.

"Well, your dad is kind of a DILF—"

“I’ll never willingly leave your life. And I’ll never do anything to make you want me to leave. And I promise you, on everything that is holy,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to a tender spot below your ear, “I’ll want you in mine for the rest of my fucking days.”

“You better,” you tease, his smile pressing into your skin before you grow serious, “because I can’t lose you.”

Jungkook’s sigh warms your skin, his nose nudging your head back as he murmurs, “You really don’t understand just how obsessed I am with you, do you, baby?”

His gaze lingers on your exposed throat, tracing every swallow, every breath. Unable to resist, he leans in, his lips finding the base of your throat, humming in contentment at the little noise you make.

Slowly, he makes his way to the side of your supple neck, his lips never detaching from your skin on his journey. You feel his breath as he hovers over the area for a second in pausing, and you wonder if it's because he can hear your heart slamming against your ribcage.

No strenuous activities.

His lips finally latch onto the skin of your neck and you feel the tiniest flick of his tongue as he suckles at the flesh.

Avoid physical exertion.

You let out the softest, breathiest fucking moan he's ever heard, and he pulls off your neck with a wet pop. His bunny teeth poke out to nibble at the now moist skin as he slowly moves to your collarbone.

Make sure you rest.

His kisses get lower, hotter, wetter, until finally, his face hovers over your thin little sleep shirt that he's considered throwing down the garbage disposal since you put it on. Bra, nowhere in sight, your hardened nipples taunt him through the pathetic excuse of a t-shirt. He glances up at you with eyes darkened with desire.

Fuck it, you've had enough rest.

You slide your hands up the back of his neck and dra him down to you, your lips meeting his with urgency. You swallow the surprised groan that escapes him, his arms framing your face as he looms over you.

Jungkook feels the tension in his muscles melt away as he surrenders to you. When you part your lips slightly, inviting him closer, he doesn't hesitate.

Your body ignites when his tongue slips into your mouth, lapping against yours and exploring as if it had always belonged there. As your back arches towards him instinctively, he slips large hand behind it, pressing you flush against him.

The countless times he's imagined this exact scenario could easily label him a certified stalker, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He was absolutely fucked.

You're lost in the sensation, the warm air of your bedroom enveloping you blissfully. Nothing but the sounds of your mouths moving against each other's, tongues melting into one. Jungkook swallows the breathy whimper that escapes your lips with pride, his hips shifting forward at the fact that he's the one drawing such a noise from you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down, urging him to erase any space left between you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he chokes out, parting from your lips to suck in a deep breath as he feels the warmth between your thighs through his sweatpants.

"I know," you nod dumbly, mind foggy as you grind your hips into his desperately.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "It's never fucking felt like this," he confesses, each word punctuated with a thrust that draws a deeper moan from your lips.

"I know," you whine in agreement, your left arm linking around the back of his neck as you meet his movements, your entire body responding to his every move.

It hasn't felt like this. Ever. You've thought that you've had some pretty good sex in your life, but this is… different. All you’ve done is kiss and grind a little, and yet you can feel those tingles in your fucking toes that people always sing about.

It would be easy to say that it's because it's been eight long days since your last orgasm, but you know that's not the case. It's because it's him.

You've never wanted a cock in you so badly. Especially not after just three measly minutes of dry humping. But god, you're so turned on right now you're pretty sure if he pulled your panties to the side, it would spray at him like a fucking fire hydrant. As you said, it's been eight days; you're a little feral right now…

You feel him stiffening through his sweats, your back arching a little more as you shift and wiggle to try and usher his covered cock through the folds of your covered pussy.

Jungkook's hips stutter when he feels you trying to line him up, and his head jerks up to look at you. He drinks in your blissed-out features; lip between your teeth, head tilted slightly, eyes closed. So pretty.

Your eyes flutter open at the long pause in his movements, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

Cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, eyes hooded.

You almost let a giggle slip when you see the similarities between his horny face and his drunk face.

"Do you want to take a nap?"

You blink at him.

"I'm sorry?"

The pink tinge that coats his cheeks creeps down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. "I just thought—"

"What?" you ask, maaaybe a little offended, "you don't wanna fuck me?"

His brows furrow as he sits up, his heels resting under his butt as he stares at you like you've just kicked a puppy before his very eyes. "First of all, I want to fuck you. I've wanted to fuck you since you made me pop my first boner at your dumb little pool party—"

"Jeongguk," you cringe, "we were like twe—"

"I've never wanted to fuck someone more than I. want. to. fuck. you." You almost laugh at the serious expression on his face but bite it back when you notice the undertone of worry in his gaze.

"I just want it to be perfect," he sighs, his tattooed hand lifting to brush through his hair, one of his nervous tics. "There's so much I want to do... and I want it all to be, like, perfect... god, Y/N, I'm being such a little bitch—"

"No," you cut him off simply, "you're being really fucking hot."

He looks at you with a slight pout as you shoot him a small smile before sitting up and mirroring his position. Your bare knees touch his that are covered by the gray Celine sweatpants you bought him last Christmas as a stocking stuffer. You're a good deal shorter than him, so your head is tilted up slightly, blinking at him slowly through your lashes.

You watch his gaze soften and you internally smirk. There we go.

You've waited far too long for the man sitting in front of you on your queen-sized bed—staring at you with more lust than you know what to do with—to prolong this any longer.

You can have your perfect night when you're not a week into an unplanned celibacy course, and your clit doesn't feel like it's going to shrivel up and snap off if left unattended any longer.

"If you want to wait, we'll wait." You shrug as you look from his left eye to his right, then down to his swollen lips. "But I haven't touched myself in eight days... And it hurts, Gukkie."

Your head hits the pillow as his mouth is back on yours in an instant. You moan in satisfaction, your lips parting eagerly to let him in further. Your legs wrap back around his waist happily, and your foot trails down to rub soft patterns against his hamstring while his tongue plays with yours.

"This is just a practice run," he grunts as he separates from you, kissing his way down your chest before he gets to the valley of your breasts.

"Yeah, yeah, grace period, whatever you want, baby, just keep going," you blurt in a huff, eyes closed in anticipation as his mouth is about to finally do some damage.

You almost scream when he stops.

You snap your eyes open and look down at the son of a bitch breathing hot air onto your already hot skin while he just smiles at you.

"Say that again."

"Say wha—"

"Baby. You called me baby, say it again."

You stare at him for a moment, your idea to tease him diminishing with the last of your patience.

"Baby," you add a shy pout to really sell it and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, "can you suck on them for a little?"

You watch as Jungkook's smile fades and his eyes unfocus, like he just transported into a different state. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he nods once, almost to himself, before he takes the bottom of your shirt that's ridden up to your belly button and lifts it to rest under your chin. Your tits bounce slightly as they spill from the fabric, and he lets out a soft "fuck" before diving in.

His hot mouth latches to your left nipple, groaning when he feels the bud pebble against his tongue. His lips pucker around the nub, sucking it into his mouth desperately, and he lets out a loud moan. This is it. This is heaven, he thinks.

Your legs shakily unlatch from around his waist, and you rest your feet on the mattress, your knees bent and pressing against his sides while he makes out with your tits.

His teeth graze gently over your nipple before he gives it a little nibble, which causes your back to arch. Doing so forces more of your boob into his mouth and he lets out a low muffled groan through a mouthful of your flesh.

"Mmmf've wanted these in my mouth for a long fucking time..." He slurs when he pulls back. His big hands cup your big tits, his gaze concentrated and focused as he jiggles and plays with them, like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Do you wanna fuck them?"

Jungkook lets out a loud groan at your filthy words, spoken with such an innocent tone his cock is almost confused as it swells like a fucking water balloon in his pants.

His left hand continues to rub soothingly at one of your tender nipples while the other slips down between you. He looks up at the blurry need in your eyes, and his traveling hand almost misses the waistband of his sweats.

"I always knew you were dirty," he breathes out, the words muffled as he plants soft, wet kisses on each of your nipples, sending shivers down your spine. With a strained groan, he frees his painfully hard erection from the confines of his briefs. "But fuck, baby, this is gonna kill me."

God, the way he says baby. Straight to the fucking core.

You tap his bum with your foot and a pretty smile, sitting up on the bed when he lifts his frame to let you slide out. His angry red cock is flush against his stomach, only the top few inches visible from the briefs that rose back up to cover him.

He lets you usher him to sit at the edge of your bed, his feet digging into your fluffy rug as he tries to ground himself while you settle. Your shirt is still being held up on its own because your tits won't let it fucking fall and Jungkook shakes his head in awe at the sight. Fucking unbelievable.

The moment you kneel on the ground, the tops of your feet flat against the carpet as you lean up slightly, your eyes fixate on his throbbing cock like it's a priceless painting. Jungkook loses his mind.

Your eyes slowly lift to his when you hear his heaved, choky breathing. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you fight the urge to smile. "You're so pretty, Gukkie."

"You're prettier, baby," he replies without missing a beat, one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other gently caresses your face.

A radiant smile spreads across your lips as you turn your face to place a fleeting kiss on his palm. His lips tug upwards at the action before the air is suddenly ripped from his lungs.

Leaning forward, you pull his briefs fully down, unsheathing his entire shaft. You tug the boxers and sweatpants so they rest under his balls, cooing at the way the elastic slightly pushes up his length, making it even angrier as a dribble of liquid gathers at the tip. You lift his shirt absentmindedly to get it out of the way, and he understands, lifting a hand to the back of the neckline and pulling it off his torso.

You barely have a chance to appreciate his tight abs, tiny waist, sinful ink that coats his skin, or the sparkling Cartier chain that dangles from his neck, a mirror of your own.

Your head tilts as you admire the prettiest dick you've ever had in front of you, each vein and ridge perfectly imperfect, complementing each other in a way that would look strange if a single one were to go missing. "Needa..." you hum, entranced, "get it wet first."

"Fuckkkkk," Jungkook moans as you lean down and lick a fat strip from the base of his balls all the way up his shaft, sucking the tip into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed on their own, the feeling of his heavy cock weighing your tongue down, making you drowsy and floaty. The scent of your body wash wafts from his skin, igniting a possessive fire in your gut you didn't even know you had as you suckle at the head. The moment he twitches against your tongue, any thought of titty-fucking flies right out your penthouse window. You're not letting him out of your mouth.

"Ohhh-hhh," he stammers as your tongue focuses on the ridge of his tip, lapping at his frenulum like it's your favorite blueberry flavored lollipop.

His hand, which had dropped back to the bed when you took him in your mouth, lifts to run through your hair, brushing it out of your face when it threatens to get in the way of your masterwork. Your eyes blink open in thanks, looking up at him dazedly, and when you catch his own, he throws his head back with a groan.

"Fuck!" He curses as you hum around his shaft, letting your lips part slightly so saliva can drip from your mouth and trail down his cock. His head snaps up to watch as you keep pushing more spit until you deem there enough before your right-hand lifts to clasp around the member.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, the grunts falling from his lips not even registering in his brain as they spew. "Fuck, baby," he huffs out. You wiggle your fingers until you have a good hold on his cock before giving it a few lazy squeezes to get the blood pumping.

"Fucking fuck!" He's absolutely done for, his entire vocabulary vanishing from his mind as you play with his dick like a joystick. Your tongue gives a final flick to lap up the precum spilling from his glan before you inhale deeply through your nose and start to feed the shaft down your throat.

The walls of your throat contract slightly as his thick girth tests your boundaries, but you push through the resistance and force it further until your lips reach your hand gripping the base of his cock.

"Oh my fucking god," Jungkook almost falls backward, but the hand that's not holding your hair out of the way steadies his balance, shaking as it works to keep him upright.

His hips jerk unconsciously when you move your hand from the base, resting it gently against his balls as you inhale through your nose again and finish him off. "Baby! B-fuck!" Jungkook would like to say that it was a manly groan, but it was a pure and outright whine.

His vocality goes straight to your cunt, your clit aching and throbbing against your underwear, screaming at you to let it breathe. You resist the urge to trail a hand down and relieve the pain, instead using it to cup Jungkook's full ballsack and roll it between your fingers. His whines get louder at that, and you almost smile around his cock.

You wait until you feel the familiar sensation of the cockhead tickling the back of your throat, the automatic gag rising through your entire body, making you swallow harshly against his shaft. 

When you swallow, you rid the excess saliva that was in your mouth, so you lift off for a second to gather more. As you do, you look up to your best friend and see him staring down at you like you hung the stars, and the smile finally breaks its way to your lips.

You lean up to give him a kiss, and he meets you halfway, his hand falling from your hair to cup your face as he melts into your mouth. It's short, sweet, and soft, yet it makes your entire body flush with goosebumps.

"I love you so much," Jungkook breathes when you pull away, and you coo at the softy, pressing a gentle kiss against his pretty nose.

"I love you more, my Gukkie," you reply sweetly before returning to the task at hand.

"Not possi—" his words are cut off when you let a stream of saliva drip from your mouth before taking him down in one swift motion.

"Oh," he moans, both hands gathering your hair into a loose ponytail, following the rise and fall of your head as you deepthroat his cock. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, fucking shittt."

You quicken your pace, your right hand like a magnet below your lips, gliding up and down his length as you squeeze it intermittently, picking up on the subtle jerks of his hips. The spit coating his cock squelches with every stroke, the filthy noise echoing in your bedroom, making your hips shift against the heels of your feet. You're so turned on. Why is his dick so fucking pretty?

Your mouth is lethal, dragging all the way until the only thing left in your cave is the tip before gulping all the way back to the base. "Yesss, baby," he chokes, "taking it so well, my baby. So fucking well."

His praise loosens the final screw in your hazy brain, your hand on the base moving to grip his thigh as you gurgle as deep as you can, the tip brushing against your uvula. You gag, hard and loud, spit spilling from your lips as your teary eyes squeeze shut. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out the loudest moan of the night, his hips jerking forward roughly, forcing another gag from your throat.

"Mmmmmfh," you moan desperately, squeezing his thigh tightly and running your free hand back to his balls. You roll the sack in your hand, lifting your head up and down his cock with no mercy, sloppily choking on his throbbing length.

His hands tangled in your hair are shaking, his abdomen tensing as he's overwhelmed with pleasure. "God, look at you just taking it all babyy, hhffuckk,” he praises through a grunt, watching the saliva spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to his balls while you fondle them. “Best fucking girl, you know that? Making me feel so fucking good. Just want me to come down your tight little throat, don’t you, my baby?"

Your eyes roll back behind your closed lids as you nod pathetically with a mouthful of his cock. You lift off with a wet pop, your eyes blinking open as you guide your hand from cupping his balls up to his shaft. You jerk him tight and sloppily before leaning down and taking his sac into your mouth. It's big, barely fitting in your mouth, but you force your jaw wider, using your tongue to usher his balls inside.

"Ahhhhffuck," Jungkook whines, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your tongue laps around his balls ruthlessly as you quicken your tugs on his shaft. When you moan greedily, wiggling your head as the sac pulses and rolls against your tongue, Jungkook feels the familiar sensation flooding his body. It's faster and harder than ever before. He tries to gesture you off him, afraid if he speaks he will lose control, but you don't relent.

"Baby, y-you gotta hop off," he heaves, his ass cheeks clenching together to try and hold off the urge to cum.

"Mm-mm." You hum a no through a mouthful of ballsack, eyes fluttering open to look up at the gorgeous man trying to take away your meal. Your hand, running amok on his cock twists and squeezes, never halting as you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes.

"Ah," he whines with a shake of his head, his hips thrusting into the air, your mouth jolting with the movement as it's attached to his balls. You hum happily, tongue flicking against them. You can't wait to see his cum dripping down his abs—

Your mouth is ripped from his balls, hand unwillingly releasing his cock as he throws you back onto your bed with purpose. "Hey—"

Jungkook swallows your whine with his mouth, cutting off your thoughts at the source when his tongue delves through your lips, lapping at the taste of him lingering on your tongue. He successfully makes you forget what unimportant thing you were going to say as he devours you, your mouths moving together, sloppy and wet.

He pulls your tongue into his mouth and suckles on the muscle while his hand runs gently over your still-exposed nipple before trailing down to your shorts. Jungkook groans around your tongue when he brushes lightly over your heat, feeling the fabric coating your pussy-lips wet to the touch.

With a final suck on your tongue, he lets it slide back into your mouth before parting from your lips. He looks down at the area he's tracing light strokes on, and his cock twitches at the sight.

"Oh, baby..." He coos, his thumb running over the wet patch in awe before looking to you. Your lip is drawn between your teeth as you nibble lightly on the flesh, eyes clouded as you stare at him with a mellow haze. "So wet, pretty... Gukkie didn't give her any attention, and she's all achy now, hmm?"

"Mmhm," you nod softly, the pout on your face still visible even with your lip tugged between your teeth. Jungkook pulls his gaze from his thumb and looks at you, all soft and sweet, just for him.

"Need the ache to go away, don't you, pretty?" He mumbles against your mouth, not applying pressure but just letting your lips rest against each other.

"Yes, please, Gukkie." You respond, voice soft as you stare at his lips patiently, waiting for him to give them to you.

"Good manners, baby," he praises delicately before leaning forward and giving you a slow, gentle kiss. You melt into him, the sound of his pleased sigh making your muscles all mushy.

Jungkook pulls back and then presses three quick, rapid kisses against your lips, making you giggle. That seemed to be his goal when the side of his mouth curved upwards at your laugh as he lifted himself off your frame.

He kicks off his sweatpants the rest of the way, and they fall to the floor next to your bed, but he tucks his still painfully hard cock back into his black briefs to hold it for the time being.

Jungkook looks down at his effortlessly beautiful best friend, lying prettily on her bed, hair sprawled out against the pillow while she waits for him to take her any way he desires. Teenage him would be freaking the fuck out if he could see him right now.

His gaze drags slowly up your body, a lingering moment spent on the meat of your thighs, and he swallows before finally locking onto the space between.

You try to will yourself to be patient despite the aching throb coming from your heat, but your leg betrays you and twitches slightly. Jungkook catches the movement instantly.

"Gonna flip you on your tummy, okay baby?" he says distractedly, eyes never straying from the wet patch on your shorts.

"Oka—"

You don't get to finish your sentence before his hands are on your hips and he flips you as gently as a horny lacrosse captain can. A surprised squeak slips out when your face hits the mattress, and you both giggle, Jungkook leaning down to kiss your shoulder with a soft, sorry pretty.

Jungkook has always been a tits guy. Tried and true. It may have stemmed from growing up with a best friend that he was hopelessly in love with who happened to develop the greatest rack he'd ever seen in his life... But right now, as Jungkook stares at your soft, round asscheeks stuffed into those little cotton sleep shorts, he's beginning to rethink his entire life choices.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, using your ankle to gently pull you further toward him. You slide down the bed without any complaints, trying not to arch your back so you can be even closer to him.

Jungkook continues his ministrations on your curves before trailing up to the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them done, your panties coming with them, and he groans at the way the flesh ripples when released from the fabric. He grabs a greedy handful of each cheek with his big hands and gives them a rough squeeze, relishing in the way you push back into his grip.

"So pretty, my baby," he hums, continuing to knead the flesh as he dips to pepper kisses all over the flushed skin.

You whine, your hips grinding into the bed in an attempt to put some pressure on your ignored clit. He notices your movements and presses one last kiss to your right asscheek before sitting back and pulling your bottoms off fully. They fall into a pile next to his discarded sweatpants, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the freedom from the confines.

When one of Jungkook's hands slips between your belly and the mattress, you can't stop the noise of satisfaction that leaves you when he gently ushers you to your hands and knees. You quickly tug your top the rest of the way off, slinking it over your head and handing it back blindly to Jungkook. He takes it from you instantly, chucking it at the growing pile of clothes next to him.

On instinct, you fall to your forearms, nipples rubbing against your duvet as you arch your back, biting your lip when even the warm air of your bedroom feels cool against your burning cunt.

"Fucking hell..." Jungkook chokes out, the sight of your soaked pussy spread and bearing for him, making his mouth water.

"Ah-fuck!" A high-pitched squeal rips from your throat when he leans down and delivers a long, broad lick up your slit.

He lets out a loud moan into your pussy when you jerk back into him at the feeling. You're so fucking wet from being so worked up, and his cock throbs against his briefs at the taste of your juices leaking onto his tongue. Jungkook's hands slide to the front of your thighs to steady you as he loses himself, his tongue wrapping your clit, sucking the hardening nub messily into his mouth. "Mmmmfh," he sighs contently like he was taking a sip of a well-made café latte instead of feasting on your cunt like a madman.

When he releases your clit, dragging the flat of his tongue from the button all the way to your opening, your knees buckle. "Yes, Gukkie, fuckk yes!" You cry, writhing against his sinful tongue.

Jungkook almost purrs in delight, lapping up the slick between your folds, trying to get every last drop. His tongue finds its way to the entrance of your core, teasingly dipping in and out once, twice, before he loses control and thrusts it as far as it can go. "Uhhh-shhhittt," your head falls forward with a shuddery gasp, your walls clenching around his tongue, pulling a low groan from him.

Jungkook's hands slide up from your thighs to rest on your asscheeks, and before you can process the realization that he hasn't used his fingers on you yet, he's gripping the flesh and pulling you harshly into his face. "Uh!" You moan, your ass flush against his face as he buries himself, nose and tongue, right into your cunt.

"Hhhhhhhhhh," you're not even saying words anymore, just useless, incoherent noises spluttering from your lips as you quiver, grinding your pussy back into his face.

He tries not to focus on your other hole, the tight little puckered fucking one that's basically blinking at him. Taunting him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on losing himself in your pussy. Another day, he thinks.

Jungkook's mouth is covered in your juice, his head shaking from side to side as he drags his tongue furiously around your cunt. The filthy sound of your sopping pussy getting devoured by his tongue resounds around your bedroom, Jungkook's hips rutting into the edge of your bed needily.

"Yes, Gukkie, yes!!! So good babyyyy--ohhh fuckkkk!" You scream, your nails digging into the mattress as you grind your pussy back into his face.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, his moans getting swallowed by your slick folds. Fuck oxygen, he hopes he passes out.

He takes one of the hands resting on your ass and brings a finger to your leaky entrance. He pulls away for a millisecond to suck in a breath before dropping down instantly and enveloping your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth. And with that, he finally pushes his middle finger into your hole.

You try to moan, but with the pressure on your clit and the sensation of finally being filled, the only sound that escapes is a strangled gasp. He lets your clit slip out of his mouth before his tongue quickly darts out to flick against it vigorously, his finger delving deeper into your hole with every jab of his tongue.

Your body shudders as he expertly works his tongue and finger in tandem, each movement driving you closer to the edge. "G-Gukkie, I'm so fucking close," you whimper, your thighs trembling around his head.

Jungkook's free hand tightens on your ass, pulling you even closer as he tries to add a second finger, his eyebrows furrowing at the resistance. "Relax baby, gotta let Gukkie in." He gives a particularly hard tongue of your clit, a pleased hum declared into your pussy when he feels your walls loosen to let his other slip in.

His tongue flicks faster, more determined, as he feels your walls flutter around his digits. He pulls back a hair to mumble against your clit, "You can let go now, my baby. I've got you."

With a harsh flick of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you tense up. "Oh my fuck, Gukkie, yes!" You cry out, your body convulsing as he pounds against your g-spot with his thick fingers. Your eyes roll back, a final scream ripping from your throat as you shatter, your orgasm ripping you apart from the inside out.

Jungkook doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers relentless as they pull every last drop of pleasure from your shaky core. The hand of his that is still gripping your ass slips up to gently rub against your back when you collapse into the mattress.

Tears well in your eyes as Jungkook delivers a final drag of his tongue from your bud to your hole, swallowing every last drop of juice leaking from your cunt. He withdraws his fingers carefully, replacing them with soft, soothing strokes along your inner thighs.

It takes you a solid minute to come down from your high, your limbs still tingling from the hardest orgasm you've had in, well, ever. Jungkook continues his soft strokes against your thighs while you catch your breath, his head spinning and mouth still coated in your remnants.

"I get it now." Your voice is muffled by the comforter you face planted into, and you currently don't have the strength to get up.

"Hm?" Jungkook hums amusedly, his hand still tracing gently over your skin.

"Why girls always want your dick so bad. I get it now. If your tongue is that good, fucking hell..."

Jungkook snorts, leaning down to press a kiss on your lower back before flopping down to lay next to you. You finally lift your head from the blanket to look at your best friend, who's already smiling down at you, his tattooed arm tucked behind his head while he rests against the headboard.

His brow raises when you giggle suddenly and sit up. He doesn't have time to admire your bare tits almost in his face when your hand lifts up to his mouth. You're still giggling as you wipe at the shiny substance that coats his lips. A shocked gasp leaves Jungkook's lips, and he grabs your hand in a flash, his eyes holding clouds of pure betrayal.

"Why would you do that?" He's genuinely upset!

It's your turn to snort this time, lifting a leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "I'm sorry, Gukkie." You entertain him with an amused eye roll, leaning in to plant a sweet kiss against his lips.

Jungkook dissolves into the kiss, about to deepen it when you pull away. His eyes snap open, ready to protest, when suddenly your tongue flicks out, dragging flat across his lips to gather your slick that coats his mouth.

"Mm," you hum, making sure to get every bit around the corner of his lips and even the speck of gloss you see on the tip of his nose.

Jungkook is frozen. His cock thrashes against his briefs as he stares at you in complete awe, your tongue sliding back into your mouth to swallow the juices—your juices—that you just lapped up from his fucking lips.

Your lip darts between your teeth as you try not to laugh at his darkened expression. Looking down at the source of the throbbing against your bare pussy, you let out a teasing coo. "That looks really sore, Gukkie..."

Jungkook swallows. He needs to calm down or he's going to pin you into the mattress and fuck you open, raw.

"It is." He manages to choke out.

You pout, lifting your gaze back to him. "Don't want you to be sore."

"You don't?" He returns softly, dragging his hand over your bare thigh.

You shake your head so cutely that he almost shivers. You lean closer, gaze flickering from his pretty nose and then back to his eyes. "I could make the pain go away if you want..."

"Yeah? You wanna make Gukkie feel better, pretty?"

You nod, the hazy feeling taking over again as he runs his hands gently up your hips, resting gently on the swell of your ass.

You lift off him slightly, his hands moving with you as they're glued to your bum. Jungkook bites his lip at the wet patch you left on his boxers, and he thanks God he did because it muffles the pitchy groan that escapes him when your hand slithers beneath his waistband.

His eyes flutter shut when you give his painfully red cock a few gentle strokes, his head dropping back to hit the headboard.

"Baby," you giggle, "you're so fucking hard."

He lifts his head to give you a deadpanned fucking obviously look, and you just snicker, leaning forward to kiss his pouty lips.

"Oh no. Fuck."

He jerks forward slightly at your serious tone, his hands moving from your butt to cup the one of yours that froze around his dick worriedly. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Your eyes soften as you don't respond verbally, a devastated look clouding your gaze. He sits up seriously now. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I don't have any condoms." Your brows are pulled together so tightly, which Jungkook still doesn't like, but he releases a breath at your words.

"Fuck, Y/N. Don't do that. You scared me, I thought you were hurt or something." His head falls back to rest against your headboard in relief instead of pleasure this time.

You frown. "Why aren't you upset? Oh, did you bring some?" Jungkook almost laughs at the thought, lifting his head to watch as you release his dick to glance behind you at his overnight bag.

"What-no, baby. Of course I didn't bring condoms. This is probably the last thing I ever expected to happen."

Your pout is in full swing now, turning back to Jungkook with a very unhappy look. He just shakes his head at your pretty face, planting his hands on the mattress beside him and pushing up to press your lips to his.

When you pull away, Jungkook is about to ask if you want to grind on him over his briefs because he would be finished in approximately thirty seconds—

"I'm on the pill." You say softly.

He swallows. "I know."

"Do you-are you clean?"

"Yeah," he chokes out, "haven't ever not used a condom. And tested after that scare the other week with...uh..."

"Did you really forget her name?" You squint, shaking your head incredulously at his genuine look of confusion.

"I-uh, yeah I don't know... All I remember is that it kinda burned when I peed—"

You roll your eyes. "Her name," you press a quick kiss to his lips, "was Yejin."

"Ohh, yeah—"

"You also did that stupid 10-packet spicy ramen challenge that day." Another quick kiss to his lips.

"Hey, that was for a fundraiser—"

"And I'm clean... Tested with Mingyu."

"Oh." Jungkook's heartbeat picks up. Not at the Mingyu part, okay maybe a little, but mostly at the fact that you're hinting at him taking you fucking raw right now.

Your lips purse, his response suddenly making you feel stupid for asking. Jungkook picks up on the look instantly, his hands cradling your face when you try to look away.

"Baby," you're about to apologize when he continues, "it's your choice. I'd fuck you wrapped in a garbage bag if you asked me to."

Your lips wiggle as you try not to smile, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes. "You're really cute, Gukkie."

"Oh?" He hums, "I thought I was a pussy eating God... but cute works too I guess."

You snicker, falling into his lips and he swallows your soft giggles with his tongue. "So humble," you whisper against his lips when you break away.

Jungkook's about to tease further, but you don't give him the chance, your hand slipping back down to wrap around his shaft. A soft shudder leaves him, his hands falling from your face to grip your ass again, squeezing it firmly.

You're still a bit sensitive, but nothing you can't handle, and you shift forward a little so the lips of your pussy press against his length.

"Oh-fuck." He moans at the feeling of a bare pussy on his cock. And it's your pussy. Holy fuck.

You place both your hands on his thick thighs, leaning back to get the right angle before you slide your hips up and down, dragging his length through your wet slit. Jungkook's hands sprawl over your back when you lean back, cradling you almost, and he keens at the sloppy, squishy sounds that fill the room.

Your clit is alive again, thumping against his cock every time it drags through your lips, and you heave out a strained moan at the fresh wave of arousal that washes over you.

Your hand pushes against Jungkook's chest gently as you sit up, determined. He lets himself fall back against the headboard, face flushed, neck vein visible, while he watches intently. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his thighs as you lean forward, your hand reaching behind you blindly to grip his shaft before you line it up with your entrance.

Your brows furrow, and you bite your bottom lip hard as you try to press the bulbous head in. Your opening does its best to stretch around the intruder and you let out a relieved whine when it finally gets sucked in.

"Fuck." Jungkook whimpers, his head slamming back hard against the headboard. Your walls burn as you struggle to accommodate his huge length, and he can fucking feel it.

You let the tingles flooding up your spine settle for a second. Then, you take a big breath, and drop.

"Mother fuckkkkk." Jungkook groans, his hands squeezing your ass tightly in shock as you take his entire length in one go.

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back in pleasure as you bask in the feeling for a moment. Every inch of you is filled with his thick girth. You've never felt so full and so fucking good.

You're so wet. So warm. So tight. Jungkook is grateful for the pause in your movements because he thinks he actually would've fucking come if you—

Your hips lift up until all that's remaining in you is his fat cockhead before you sink back down and take it all in one swoop.

Lewd noises spew from his lips as he forces his eyes to stay open, watching you swallow his cock over and over and over.

"So fucking good at that, baby, shit..." Jungkook grunts.

Your nails dig into his thighs at the praise, your head lifting back up to look at him as you increase your pace.

You begin to move faster, riding him with an increasing intensity that makes the bed creak beneath you. The friction and fullness send waves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan. Your hands find his shoulders, using them as leverage as you bounce on his length harder.

"Godssooo fucking good," you pant, your voice a breathless slur. "So deep, Gukkie. C-can feel it in my tummy."

Jungkook's hands slide up your back with a growl, pulling you closer until your chests are pressed together. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as the rhythm of your hips grows more frantic. The slick sounds of your bodies slamming together fills the room, enveloping you both in desire.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. "Taking it so good, my baby," he worships against your collarbone. "So fucking perfect."

The praise spurs you on, your movements becoming pathetically desperate as you chase your release. You can feel the burning tension coiling in your core, ready to snap, when suddenly his feet move to plant themselves into your mattress and he begins to thrust up into you.

"Oh fuck yes, fuck!" You gasp, your knees trembling as he plows relentlessly into you from below.

"Shittttt," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you up and down on his cock, balls slapping against your ass as he pistons furiously into your pussy. "So good at riding cock, baby, taking it all like a proper fucking slut."

You cry loudly at his words, your nails digging into his shoulder slightly as you writhe against his thrusts. "It's the pilates," you choke out, "developed good core strength. Great for riding dick."

Jungkook lets out a loud laugh, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck while his thrusts get even deeper. He feels your walls tighten around him sorely, and he heaves a shaky breath before slipping a tattoed hand between you two, thumb attaching to your clit. Your fucked-out uh-uh-uh’s echoes in his ears with every plunge of his cock, fueling him to go harder.

The sloppy bud twitches under his touch, his thumb slipping from how soaked you are, but he doesn't back down. He chases the hard nub and flicks it in time with his thrusts, cock jittering as you let out your loudest moan of the night.

"I'm gonna come, Gukkie. I-I'm gonna fucking come! Oh my goddddd!" you're bouncing on him wildly, your walls clenching furiously with no pattern, completely run with pleasure that you can't control it.

"Come on, baby," he whines through a thrust, his balls squeezing as you get impossibly tighter, begging to let them release their fluids, "Ohh-h-ffuck, can I come too, baby? Can I come in you? Oh fuck, fuck."

You don't even get to answer as you completely shatter, your orgasm taking control over your whole body that you swear you see the light. You cry out his name as best you can, your body convulsing, shaking around his length.

You can't possibly speak as you collapse against his chest but as you fall, you see the pained look in his eyes as he tries not to come. You want it so bad. More than you've ever wanted anything in your life. Before you know what you're doing, your thighs tighten around his legs, your mouth moves to the nape of his neck, and you bite. Hard.

Jungkook spasms, the deepest growl of a moan rips through his throat as he throws his head back and cums, deep and hot, right into your cunt. You whimper around the chunk of flesh captured between your teeth, his thick load tickling your walls as it fills your hole.

You feel complete.

Jungkook's hands gently stroke your back, grounding you as you come down from your high. Nothing but the sound of both your heavy breathing fills your ears before Jungkook breaks the silence. "You did so well, baby."

Your tongue laps and licks softly at the skin of his neck to soothe the subtle teeth marks you left, and he lets out a pleased noise through a shiver. Your head lifts to look into his eyes, a hazy smile spreading across your face when you take in his blissed-out features. "I didn't know sex could feel like that."

Jungkook's eyes flutter open at your words, his stomach clenching in pure joy that his softening cock still tucked up inside of you even lets out a shudder. "Yeah?" He asks softly, a hand lifting to tuck some of your messy hair behind your ear.

"Yeah," you nod with a flutter of your eyes at his gentle touches, "the fact it was you was probably the main factor," you mumble dreamily against his neck when you rest your head on his shoulder, "but that was still the best dick I've ever had."

His heart swells infinitely. You were by far the best pussy he's ever had, but he didn’t think you would share such a thought. He should've known by now that if you are many things, predictable is not one of them.

You wrap your legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck happily as his cock stays plugged inside of you, keeping his load intact and secure.

Jungkook's arms slink under your arms gently so he can pull you even closer, wrapping you around his chest (and his length) like a koala.

"This has been the greatest night of my entire life, Y/N." He whispers honestly against your cheek before pressing a soft kiss into the skin. "Thank you."

You hum contently, tilting your head up slightly to look at him with a pretty smile. "I love you, Gukkie."

"I love you, pretty." He replies, peppering your lips with another three quick kisses, smiling in satisfaction when another you give him another giggle.

You let the comfortable silence wrap you for a moment before breaking it. "Do we have any pasta left from dinner?"

The mention of dinner makes him think for a moment. He cooked pasta for the two of you, which you ate not long before coming into your room. You ate before sex. And you don’t look like you feel sick.

He gazes down at you, his smile broadening, heart fluttering. "'Course, I made heaps. Are you hungry?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon then," he says, giving your bum a gentle pat, ready to lift you off him and clean you up before feeding you.

"'nna minute..." You mumble sleepily against his neck, and he stops his movements, hands settling back to rub soothing strokes on your bum.

"You want me to carry you, don’t you?" he teases, suppressing a smirk as he feels you clench around him absentmindedly at him reading your thoughts.

"Noo...." your voice trails off, not even trying to conceal your lie. Jungkook chuckles softly, feeling your smile against his skin.

He makes sure he has a tight grip on you, and you him, before he carefully lifts both of you from the bed. He leads you into your ensuite, his long arm reaching out to snatch some toilet paper and a clean hand towel from your shelf as he gently places you on the sink counter.

Jungkook captures the liquid that seeps from your core with the paper as he slowly withdraws. He gives you a chuckly sorry when you wince a little, the thick head of his cock tugging at your walls as he retreats. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips to distract you and slips out with a final tug.

After discarding the used toilet paper, he dampens the towel with warm water and tenderly runs it over your core gently, pulling a pleased sigh from your lips.

Watching your best friend in awe through half-lidded eyes, he makes sure to thoroughly clean up the mess on and in your pussy before he half-heartedly uses the towel to wipe at his wet length.

He chucks the rag into the laundry hamper on the other side of the large bathroom. It lands directly in the basket from his athletic skills, and he turns to you with a cocky smirk.

You shake your head in amusement, "you're a loser."

"Don't talk to me like that, gonna get me hard again."

Your eyes widen in mock shock, before you giggle into his chest. "Knew you'd be into shit like degradation... Just had this feeling."

"Only with you though." It's cliché, but he means it.

You lift your head from his chest. "Only for me, huh?"

Jungkook nods, still standing between your legs as you look up at him from your bathroom counter. His gaze turns a little more serious. "Only yours."

Your head tilts as you blink up at the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen in your life. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jungkook responds instantly and certainly. His thumbs tremble nervously against your thighs while he waits for your response, and they pull to a halt when you lean up to rest your mouth against his.

"Good," you murmur softly against his pouty lips, "because I'm all fucking yours."

END.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

thank you so much for reading. let me know what you think? love you <3

oh my fucking god

Little do You Know | OT7 | Seven

Pairing: Bangtan (ot7) x f!reader 

Summary: In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. 

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, playmate au, idol au. 

Chapter warnings: It’s Jimin’s birthday! 😈

WC: 3.9k

← Previous | Series Masterlist | Next →

Your apartment had a strict ‘no outside visitors’ rule, only playmates and the Bangtan members were allowed inside. But Hana was also a playmate, so technically you weren’t breaking any rules by having her there with you. Jimin had told you to invite your best friend to his birthday party, so after checking with him a few days later –once he was sober enough–, you had told her to come over a little earlier so you could get ready together.

It felt like the old days, when you would pre-game at your small shared apartment before a university party. Only this time there was no getting half drunk on cheap liquor to avoid the high fees of bars and clubs. 

Seguir leyendo

la mía igual 🥳🥳🥳🥳

HOLA UMA DSTUVE MUY EN OTRA HACE MUCHO NO PASO A SALUDARTE COMO ANDA LA HARRIW ARGENTINA MAS LINDA ??? ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

HOLA MI AMOR HACE MUCHO NO HABLAMOS!!!! BIEN ACÁ ANDO VOS??? TE EXTRAÑÉ

gangrry TE AMO

Ok uma but I need yn taking care of gangrry when he’s sick, and he just keeps pushing her away bc he’s supposed to be taking care of her and not the other way around🥺

okay i know you send this ask years ago but i was waiting to be inspired and NOW it's the time so let's go 😘 this is in the early stage of their relationship that's why they aren't married yet!

HARRY'S MASTERLIST | GANGRRY UNIVERSE

"I'm fine– ah, shit." A sneeze interrupted him. "Y/N, I need to finish the contracts."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." She replies, as she wrings out a wet cloth into a bucket and then places it on his forehead. "You're burning, H."

The long-haired man smirks and is about to reply but an itch in his throat forces him to cough repeatedly.

Y/N shakes her head and leaves to make some soup. She'd arrived at her boyfriend's house after receiving no reply to any of her messages and found him passed out in front of his desk, his face buried in papers and his forehead boiling.

Moving his body from there to the bed had left her exhausted.

He'd woken up a few minutes ago and tried to get up only to be pushed back against the pillow. Y/N'd stripped him of his sweaty clothes and now he was only in his boxers, but under three blankets that kept him warm.

When she returns with a bowl of soup, Harry's leaning against the wall and folding his arms with an annoyed expression (as usual). The blankets had slipped down to his waist, leaving his naked torso exposed, so she quickly leaves the soup on the bedside table to cover him up.

"You're gonna get worse." She says as she covers him. "I brought you some soup, you're overworking yourself, baby."

"It should be me."

Y/N looks at him confused, crawling into bed. "Huh?"

"I should be taking care of you, not in bed fucking sick." Sneeze. "I gotta protect you, that's why I have to sign those contracts... to keep yeh safe."

He ducks his head in shame, and this is one of the few times she gets to see him blush. Her heart beats fast for the man beside her, and she grabs him to leave kisses on his cheeks, nose, and just all his face.

"You're so cute." She says, kissing him and brushing away the long hairs that stuck to his forehead from sweat.

"What the fuck did I say that was cute?"

So cute.

He lets himself be babied by her, secretly loving all the affection. He can see the good side of being sick, as long as he has his angel with him.

"Harry, just as you always take care of me, I'll take care of you too." Y/N replies, taking the bowl of soup and dipping the spoon into it, blowing before bringing it to his mouth. "Sure, we don't have the same ways, but you know what I mean."

He accepts the food, huming as he feels the warmth in his sore throat. He can feel himself starting to feel better, but right now he doesn't want this to end.

He finishes eating quickly and curls up next to her, who checks on him from time to time. Harry allows himself to stop thinking about the gang for a while and after twenty minutes, Y/N touches his forehead and cheeks.

"Your fever's gone down." She murmurs, stroking his cheek. "Feeling better?"

Yes. "No."

She's surprised. "No?"

He doesn't know why he said no, but he fakes a cough and snuggles against her chest. "Everything hurts like shit, feel like I've been shot in the damn head."

Y/N laughs quietly and covers them both, stroking his scalp. "Okay, wanna sleep for a while?"

"Only if you stroke m'hair." He murmurs against her neck, one hand wrapped around her waist and as always, one on her thigh, squeezing the skin in a comfort way.

By God, if all his enemies saw him like this they wouldn't be half as afraid as they are, but she loved being the only one to know this side of Harry Styles, Europe's greatest criminal.

"Always."