#I REALLY LIKE REBECCAS HAIR!!!!
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palukoo · 6 months ago
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anyone else dreaming of manderley??
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theghostparty · 10 months ago
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Quand Mercutio nous chantait "la vie est belle" Moi, j'y croyais...
This one goes out to the absolutely wild hairstyle choices they subjected Cyril Niccolai to during the 2010 revival.
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kyros-tha-soldier · 11 months ago
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My cuties having their best time together after ten years 🥺
Also, sorry but I couldn't find the artist, I'm sure they were on japenese twitter but i couldn't find their @, very btfl and amazing art 🙏🌻
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the-acid-pear · 6 months ago
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so. currently writing the chapter of my fic that goes over Steven's death (which happens A LOT earlier in the timeline for me; i always thought that it happened earlier than people think it did canonically), and.
time for Steven's boyfriend and Harry!! because i need to talk about headcanons or i'll Lose It.
so, fun fact! Harry is biracial (parents both grew up in Texas before moving; father was of Irish descent, mother was Mexican), and grew up learning both Spanish and English.
Steven's boyfriend, Angelo (or "Angie" as Steven calls him) is a Latino man (not 100% sure where his family's from though. it's not entirely important to the plot so i'm thinking of just leaving it vague for now at least). he's also bilingual.
Harry and Angelo talked often as Angie would come to check up on Steven at work or even pick him up. Harry picked up on the relationship rather quickly, and so would generally ask about it with Angelo in Spanish so that not many people would understand what they were talking about.
then Steven dies, and now Harry's gotta cover it up.
Angelo notices that Steven, Mr. "Follows His Daily Schedule To A 'T'" over here, has been gone far longer than he would normally be without calling, and rushes over to Freddy's to see what was wrong.
he runs into Henry first, and upon being asked why he was looking for Steven, went "Uh, um, he's my roommate and I'm worried about him? 😅" (< not technically lying) because He's Not About To Tell A Random Older Man That He Has A Boyfriend. In The Fucking 70s.
he runs into Harry, who takes him off to the side so that he can calm Angie down. they decide to switch to Spanish, just to keep Henry or anyone else from listening in. Angelo's inconsolable, desperate to find his boyfriend, while Harry tries to get him to calm down and head home while they "handle it."
Harry felt horrible, having to lie to this man's face, to give him false hope that his boyfriend would be coming home anytime soon. but...this is just protocol. Procedure. This Is What They Were Supposed To Do In Situations Like This, Right? it's what his programming says to do after all.
meanwhile, Henry, with his very limited knowledge of Spanish, has next to no idea what they're saying to each other, just that it's about Steven.
but what he does know is that the word "novio" is used to refer to Steven a lot during this conversation.
- dogboyjackkennedy
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Gonna scream. Gonna just yell real loud.
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mako-island-moon-pool · 6 months ago
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Personally of the belief that live action fans who go onto animanga posts uninvited like 'I DESPERATELY NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT I THINK THE ART STYLE IS UGLY EVEN THO THIS OPINION IS IRRELEVANT TO THE POST' should be hit with a big rock. We already moved past this ten years ago, get with it or get lost. Swallow the hunger inside of you that demands everything be palatable to you. Maybe you could stand to be a little uncomfortable for a while
#Keep ur trashy comments to yourself#It's not even ugly! It's just not the conventional anime style so you deem it ugly. That's so fucking sad of you#You're the type of person who sees a piece of art and is like OMG WERE THEY ON DRUGS?!?!?!?!?!#Idk I think the art style is very fitting for the gigantic world Oda has built#People are allowed to be ''ugly'' because not all of us were born to be models. Shock and horror I know#(this is NOT aimed at the ppl who critque the way Oda draws women (to a degree...) bc I agree he could've done the same for women as he doe#The men by giving them way more diverse features and body shapes)#No this is aimed at the ppl who think the style as a whole is ugly and demean it bc it doesn't suit their tastes#Meanwhile their taste is the most conventional cookie cutter bland pretty boy/girl bullshit out there#(I say to a degree up there bc I think ppl go way too far with the criticisms like the one person who posted the Charlotte family identical#Sisters and went LOOK HOW SIMILAR THESE WOMEN ARE ODA SUCKS when they were MEANT to look similar)#^ yes that is an actual post I saw in like 2018 or 2019 when WCI was reaching its end in the anime and it made me die laughing#There are dozens of other examples you could've given but no. You intentionally chose the triplets (quintuplets? It's been a hot minute)#Rebecca and Nami and Vivi and Shirahoshi all having the exact same face with different hair? No I will use the identical twins as proof#What a unique way to undermine your own argument bc I was with you up until that#Anyway yeah the more I think abt the more I think the live action sucks actually for getting rid of Sanji's eyebrows bc they'd 'look bad'#Who cares? It's part of his design. You are cutting off parts of his character. Same w/ Usopp's nose.#Who fucking cares if it would have looked 'bad' or 'ugly'? Is that all you guys really care about? Keeping up appearances???#I'm so sick of the shit I like getting 'remade' to appeal to people who will never actually appreciate why stuff looks the way it does#It's so shallow I hate it#<- yes I'm still bitter about what they did to my boy WW in the three guns reboot iykyk#And Livio and Razlo for that matter. What the FUCK was that about#Idk maybe it's cuz it's something I recognized in myself and attempted to squash so it's frustrating seeing other ppl do it#And again obvs Oda isn't perfect w/ this either as he draws evil women as fat old hags and his protags as skinny and beautiful#Or how he thinks not following ur dreams will make u ugly and fat and following ur dreams will make u conventionally attractive#I get it. Storytelling method. But u can do better. Use colorschemes instead of physical attributes or something like Veneer does
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hecksupremechips · 6 months ago
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I’m thinking I should change my pfp but it’s also the biggest decision in the entire world and I’m indecisive you see
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softspiderling · 7 months ago
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god, it's brutal out here | r.c.
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summary:
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
OR; 5 times your friends share their unsolicited opinions about your and Rafe’s break up.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of c*caine
word count: 5,4k
author’s note: the long awaited sequel of so obsessed with your ex! this can be read as a standalone fic, but there are little easter eggs hidden all over, which will be more fun if you read the first part! it's a little bit longer than I had planned, but there was no way around it. I hope you enjoy it so so much!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
I Wheezie
“Hey Wheeze.”
You had accepted the facetime without looking at your phone, keeping it rested on a shelf while you were halfway into your closet, trying to find a dress.
“Does Rafe have a new girlfriend??”
Pausing, you shut your eyes, letting out a silent exhale before you picked up the phone, giving Wheezie a wry smile through the camera.
“Nice to see you too.”
The girl only looked at you, unimpressed and her arms crossed. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing you didn’t have a way out of this conversation. Grabbing your phone, you sat down on your bed.
“Yes, Rafe has a new girlfriend.”
“I knew it!” Wheezie shrieked, throwing her arms up, and you only shook your head in exasperation. The tendency for drama clearly was in the Cameron genes. Wheezie frowned, getting closer to your phone as she looked at you.
“Why am I more upset about this than you are?”
You bit back another sigh. “Because Rafe and I are broken up, Wheeze. He’s allowed to date other people, matter of fact, I’m really glad that he has moved on.”
“Bullshit!”
“Wheezie!”
Wheezie rolled her eyes, but she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest again. “I don’t like her.”
“You don’t even know her,” you sighed, rubbing your temple, feeling a migraine coming on.
“This is crazy!” Wheezie exclaimed. “You and Rafe never should’ve broken up in the first place! Rafe is probably only dating her to make you jealous so you’ll take him back.”
You couldn’t help but snort at that, Wheezie clearly watched way too many rom-coms. She frowned at you.
“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, this is, like, super un-funny.”
“Because, Wheeze,” you started, plucking a feather out of your pillow. “This isn’t some 90’s rom-com where I see Rafe with Rebecca and suddenly a sad song is playing. This is real life. We are broken up.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Remember when we used to fight all the time? And I was just always sad?”
Wheezie was quiet, her lips still pursed. “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. Couples fight all the time, doesn’t mean you just have to break up.”
“Yes, couples fight all the time and they don’t have to break up, but it was the right decision for me and Rafe,” you said, your tone final. Wheezie looked at you, her frown slowly smoothing down.
“If you say so,” she muttered, not quite convinced. She stared down at her chipped finger nails, before she looked up again. “Can we still talk?”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Of course we can still talk, why wouldn’t we?”
“I don’t know… I mean, you’re gonna find a new boyfriend and maybe he has a younger sister as well and then I’ll just be your ex’s younger sister.”
“Wheeze,” you said, fondly, knowing where she was coming from. You had been in her life for most of her teenage years, it must be weird not having you around anymore. “We’ll still talk, no matter if I get a new boyfriend or not, even if he has a cool younger sister, or even three.”
Wheezie smiled, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re so dumb.”
“Yet you still want me around,” you teased. “How about you, Sar and I go get some ice cream and then to the movies this weekend?”
“Sounds good,” Wheezie replied with a big smile. She paused when someone called her name from somewhere in the house, before she turned back to her phone. “I gotta go, Rose needs me. I’ll text you later.”
“Alright, Wheeze. Talk to you later, be good.”
Wheezie waved into the camera, before the facetime ended. Your smile dropped and you tossed your phone on your bed with a sigh, letting yourself fall back on your bed. Even six months after the break up it was still hard to talk about Rafe, and now that he had a new girlfriend, you thought it’d be easier to get over him, but all it did was hurt more. It didn’t help that Rafe was still texting you every now and then. Nothing scandalous, just small texts, but you never replied. You both agreed on no contact after the break up, because you thought it’d give you a better opportunity to heal. You should’ve known he’d break it. Picking up your phone, you unlocked it, swiping to your messages.
Rafe [11/30/23: 1:43 am]: couldn’t sleep. remember when we took out the boat at two am bc we both drank a red bull at ten?
Rafe [11/30/23: 11:22 am]: sorry, i was drinking. didn’t mean to text you. hope you’re doing good
Rafe [12/25/23: 2:44 pm]: merry christmas. it’s weird without you.
Rafe [01/01/24: 01:02 am]: happy new year’s.
Rafe [01/05/24: 9:56 pm]: are you really not gonna text me back?
Rafe [01/27/24: 3:07 am]: i miss you
Rafe [02/12/24: 12:05 pm]: saw you at the party last night. you looked so fucking pretty. took everything in me not to talk to you.
Rafe [03/01/24: 7:12 pm]: idk if you care or not, but i still wanted to let you know. i’m seeing someone
You never replied to any of the texts, knowing it was for the better. You could block him, but you never brought it over your heart to do so, telling yourself you wanted him to reach you in case of emergency, but deep down, you didn’t want to block him.
Just incase.
II Barry
“Want some C?” Barry asked as greeting, presenting Rafe a small baggie with white powder in it as soon as he walked onto the lot.
“Nah,” Rafe declined, already feeling jittery enough without it, “Won’t say no to a beer though.”
Barry let out a grunt, tossing the baggie on the table, disappearing inside the trailer. Rafe took a seat in one of the chairs, running his hand over his buzzed head, bouncing his leg nervously. He had needed to get out of the house for a while. Ever since Rebecca pulled the picture out of the drawer, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Again.
Which is fucked up, really. He thought he got over you, he didn’t want to be the guy who thought about his ex while having a whole ass girlfriend. The door to the trailer opened with a slam, Barry exiting with two beer cans, handing Rafe one of them. The can was ice cold in his hands, and the cold liquid helped with his racing heart. He let out a sigh, rubbing a thumb over his eye brow. Rafe took another gulp of the beer, almost drinking the entire can in one go, while Barry watched him, assessing.
“You good?”
Rafe nodded, setting the can on the table.
“Yeah, jus’ stressed.”
“Work, or…?”
Barry trailed off without finishing his sentence and Rafe didn’t answer, wiping a finger over his jaw, which was clenched to the max.
Barry eyed him skeptically, leaning back in his chair. “How’s Mrs. Country Club?”
Rafe let out a loud sigh, tipping his head back, like he always did when he was annoyed with Barry.
“Barry, I don’t know if all the drugs you’re taking are starting to get to your memory, but we broke up.”
“Don’t be fucking rude,” he said, kicking Rafe’s chair. Not hard enough for it to tip over, but hard enough for Rafe to grip onto the arm rests, glaring at his friend. “How’d you know I wasn’t talking ‘bout your new girl?”
“Because you always call her Becky,” Rafe pointed out, giving him a look.
Barry shrugged, taking a sip from his beer. “You still know who ‘m talking about, so what’s the problem?”
“Problem is, it’s disrespectful. You know that’s not her name.”
“You’re still hung up on your ex while dating Becky, so who’s really disrespecting her?”
Rafe’s head shot up and the glare he sent Barry was deadly.
“Fuck this shit, and fuck you,” he snapped, pushing himself up from the chair, but Barry grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Boy, sit down.”
Rafe scowled at him, before sitting back down, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. He did not come all the way out to the cut to get called out like this.
“If you came here to be coddled, you went to the wrong person.”
“I don’t need to be coddled,” Rafe muttered with an eyeroll. “Just wanted to let off some steam.”
“So?” Barry snorted, waving his hands around. “Steam away.”
Rafe scoffed, scooting down in his chair, shaking his head. “Do you think I want to think of her? I fucking hate feeling like this. Bex is nice, and she’s hot. And yet-”
“And yet you’re still thinking of your ex,” Barry finished the sentence, rubbing his chin. “Why don’t you get back together with her?”
“She doesn’t want me.”
“God, fucking Country Club,” Barry snickered. “You’re fucking dense.”
“Nah, you don’t fucking get it, “ Rafe sneered, leaning his head in his hands. And he didn’t, not really. Which really wasn’t his fault. Rafe just didn’t want to talk about the break up with his friends. Physically couldn’t. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t told anyone why you broke up. Just made it feel all to real, he guessed.
“Nah, you’re right, I don’t,” Barry said, shaking his head. “All I know is, one day you’re all fucking sunshine and the next you’re more emo than that Friday girl.”
“What?” Rafe asked, lifting his head to stare at Barry in confusion.
Barry waved him off. “You know, that freaky girl from Netflix with the black lipstick.”
“Do you mean Wednesday?”
“Yeah, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, all the same to me,” Barry huffed. “Point is, life’s too fucking short to do things that don’t make you happy.”
“Bex makes me happy.”
Barry gave him a long, hard look, squinting his eyes at him. “Yeah, right. Whatever makes you sleep at night.”
Rafe stared back at him before shaking his head, finishing the last of his beer before crushing the empty can in his hand, declining to answer, because he knew he couldn’t convince Barry.
He wasn’t even convinced himself.
III Topper
top [05/03/24: 4:06 pm]: gonna be at alex’s later tonight with rafe and rebecca just fyi if you wanted to come
mrs. rafe [05/03/24: 4:57 pm]: k, thanks for letting me know
—— NEW MESSAGE ——
top [05/04/24: 1:37 am]: can you pick me up?
It was Saturday night, a little past your bedtime for a night in. You were getting ready for bed, exiting the bathroom when your phone buzzed in your hand. Lifting it, you read the new text, not quite believing he’d make you do this. What the fuck was he thinking asking you to pick him up? Shaking your head in disbelief, you typed out an answer.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: topper no
Before you could put the phone away, your phone already buzzed with an answer, and you nearly didn’t want to read whatever lame ass excuse he came up with, your hand stilling when your eyes flit over his text.
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: please, i don’t want to get a ride with rafe and rebecca
top [05/04/24: 1:41 am]: she asked me so many questions about you and i can’t be around rafe rn or i’ll tell him
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:45 am]: … fine
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:47 am]: you’re so annoying
Cursing Topper and yourself for not going to bed sooner, you put on a sweatshirt and grabbed your keys and purse, typing out another text before you headed out of the house, getting into your car.
mrs. rafe [05/04/24: 1:49 am]: be there in ten
top [05/04/24: 1:50 am]: omg i owe you <3
Barely ten minutes later, you pulled up in front of Alex’ house, looking out for Topper, before you spotted him underneath a tree. You rolled to a stop next to him, giving him the most unimpressed look.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Topper groaned, getting into the car, shutting the door behind him.
You rolled your eyes, pulling off the curb without another word, driving towards Topper’s house.
“I’m really sorry for asking you to come get me, but Rafe was looking for me and I had too much to drink already to lie in his face,” Topper said, leaning his back against the headrest, shutting his eyes.
You desperately wanted to know what Rebecca had asked but you didn’t want to come off as the nosy ex, even if this was Topper. So as nonchalantly as you could, you asked: “What did you talk about?”
“Jesus,” Topper said, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me how you guys broke up and wanted details, too. Was super insistent, I was kinda scared actually.”
Okay, so just normal sussing out the ex, you could deal with that.
“What did you say?”
“That it was a mutual break up and I didn’t know why you broke up, just that you suddenly disappeared from each other’s lives.”
You sighed. That was the vaguest answer you’d ever heard.
“Why didn’t you just tell her why we broke up?”
Topper glanced at you, his brows knitted together.
“How can I tell her something I don’t know?”
“What?”
You slammed on the breaks, nearly sending Topper flying through the windshield because the idiot hadn’t buckled up, while you stared at him.
“What do you mean you don’t know why we broke up?”
“I don’t!” Topper exclaimed. “Rafe refuses to talk about it and you never told me either.”
“Because I assumed Rafe has told you! It’s been like six months!”
Blinking at Topper, it took you a few seconds to process, jumping when someone honked their horn at you, when you remembered you had stopped in the middle of the street.
“Shit,” you muttered, shifting gears to keep on driving, eyes flitting to Topper repeatedly.
“So…” he started. “Why did you guys break up?”
You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, letting out a deep breath. When you had left to come pick Topper up, you hadn’t expected having to tell him why you and his best friend had broken up.
“I was getting so worried about him. He was so stressed about the company every day, took home so much work and Ward was breathing down his neck to keep the numbers up. I told him that I thought he should take a step back, maybe take a break or something, tried to convince him of going on a trip or something, but the more I said, the more he seemed to be pushing himself into work. It got so bad that we were fighting basically every day, and it just wasn’t working anymore. It felt like we were going in circles.”
You cleared your throat when you felt yourself getting choked up, vision turning a little blurry from the tears in your eyes.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Topper exclaimed, patting himself down, looking for some tissues.
“Don’t worry about it,” you snorted, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. You were so wrapped up in trying to retell the break up, you hadn’t even noticed that you already reached Topper’s house. “I shouldn’t even still be getting so worked up over this after all this time,” you sniffed, turning your car off.
Topper looked at you, with that typical look on his face and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe Rafe hasn’t told you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I think he might be in denial about it.”
You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Why was everyone so hung up over your break up?
“It’s been six months.”
Topper didn’t reply, his hand on the car door and you expected him to bid you good bye, but that was too easy.
“�� Do you think you guys will get back together?”
“He has a girlfriend, Top.”
“Still. I don’t think that Rafe and Rebecca are gonna last very long.” Topper looked at you, pressing his lips together, before shaking his head. “Sorry. Thanks for coming and for getting me home. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
You nodded, giving him a small wave, and waited until he got out of the car, shutting the door behind him, before you turned your car on, pulling off.
“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping the rest of the tears off as you drove home.
IV Kelce
“Kelce!”
Kelce looked up from the pool table, a smile growing on his face when he saw Rafe come down the basement, his friend wrapping an arm around him for a brief hug.
“Happy birthday, man,” Rafe said, handing Kelce a bottle of the expensive whiskey he always drank when he was at Rafe’s but too stingy to buy it for himself.
“Ah shit, you didn’t have to,” Kelce uttered, though his eyes were sparkling as he looked at the bottle in his hands. He handed the pool stick to one of the guys next to him, leading Rafe to the bar. He grabbed two glasses from the shelves, pouring Rafe and himself a good amount, offering one of the glasses to him.
“Cheers to you.”
The two clinked their glasses, before sipping on the whiskey. Kelce really enjoyed it, too, with the way he closed his eyes, and Rafe only snorted in his glass. Kelce peaked his eye open, shoving his friend fondly with a grin.
“Rebecca here?”
“Yeah, upstairs.”
Kelce hummed in thoughts, nodding absentmindedly. He stared into his glass, swishing the amber liquid around before he spoke up again.
“You know she’s here, too, right?”
Rafe tensed, knowing exactly that Kelce was talking about you, but he had expected it. Firstly, because you and Kelce had always been friends, and secondly because he had heard Sarah making plans with you to go together. Didn’t mean this felt any less of a punch to the gut. He really hoped he wouldn’t run into you, because he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do; all he knew was, that Bex wasn’t gonna like it. Rafe cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.
“I figured, yeah.”
“That okay?” Kelce asked, and Rafe was starting to get annoyed, rolling his eyes. Why was Kelce questioning him about you on his damn birthday? He tried to dampen his anger though, not wanting to ruin the night.
“Yes. It’s your birthday, man.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, Rafe knew he did a shit job of hiding his emotions, and Kelce eyed him suspiciously.
“I don’t get you guys,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a new girl, but you still haven’t gotten over your ex, clearly, but every time I mention her, you act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but neither of you have said a bad word about the other.
Rafe scoffed, though his heart started to race at the thought of you talking about him. He wondered what you had said, if you cared enough to ask about him, or if you had long moved on.
“Are you ever gonna tell me why you guys broke up?”
“Maybe next time.”
Kelce gave him a wry smile, knowing this was Rafe avoiding the topic again. He lifted his head when more people starting coming down the basement, curling his hand around Rafe’s shoulder to give him a squeeze.
“I really hope you figure it out bro, because this right now is not it.”
He then excused himself to welcome the new arrivals and Rafe gripped his glass, before downing it in one go.
“Alright, who wants to get destroyed in a round of pool?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he approached the pool table. Anything to stop himself from going upstairs to look for you.
V Sarah
“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna keep talking to her forever!”
You gave Sarah a look. She hadn’t even waited a minute after you left Rebecca on the couch before she started talking about her.
“I don’t have a problem with her.”
Sarah groaned, linking her arm with yours as to not lose you in the crowd that has formed in Kelce’s house. You were glancing around, hyper aware that you could run into Rafe any second, but you didn’t want Sarah to notice.
“I don’t understand how you can be so chill. Did you not see the picture she had in her purse?”
You sighed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. Was this ever going to stop? “Sar, please.”
“Hello?? That was super freaky.”
“Maybe she was just cleaning up and wanted to throw it in the trash and forgot it in her purse.”
Sarah laughed dryly, shaking her head. “Bullshit! Admit that you find it weird.”
“Okay, maybe it is a little weird,” you admitted. “But don’t you do things that are a little weird sometimes? Maybe she’s just a little insecure. Which I wouldn’t blame her for, you’re so mean. Shouldn’t you try and be her friend or something?”
“Why? She’s not gonna be around much longer anyways, and I already have a friend.”
You rolled your eyes, fishing your keys out of your purse to unlock your car. Again with the sentiment that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t gonna last much longer. You decided against deeming that statement with an answer and got into your car, with Sarah getting into the passenger seat.
“Do you want to grab some burgers?” She asked, buckling up, like she hadn’t just told you that your ex and his new girlfriend weren’t gonna last.
You gave her a look as you tossed your purse to the back.
“What do you mean do I want to grab burgers? I thought you wanted to leave because you’re meeting John B early in the morning.”
Sarah blinked at you, before she reached out to give you a shove on the forehead. “I was lying so we could get away, stupid.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, starting your car as Sarah protested.
“What? I was getting weirded out by you being all besties with Rafe’s new girlfriend. I don’t even understand how you can be so nice to her knowing she’s all up on your man.”
“Pray tell, who’s my man again?”
“Don’t even,” Sarah huffed. “You guys dated forever, I know you still love each other. And let me tell you one thing,” she said, raising her eyebrows at you. “If you got a new boyfriend? Rafe would not be this nice to him like you were to Rebecca.” With that, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, settling back against her seat.
You only sighed, starting your car in silence.
“Do you want to get burgers now or not?” you asked, extending a peace offer while looking over at Sarah. She glowered at you, before nodding with an eyeroll.
“Yes.”
BONUS + I Rafe
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe pushed the pasta on his plate around with his fork, too engrossed in his thoughts to even think about eating. He didn’t even notice how Dennis had stopped talking. Rafe looked up from his plate, only to see Dennis look at him intently, an amused grin on his face.
“Sorry, were you saying something?”
“I was saying a lot, but you seemed like you were on a completely different planet,” Dennis noted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Rafe winced, putting his fork down.
“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
“I can tell,” Dennis mused. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Something like that.”
Rafe sighed, leaning back in his chair. Ever since you broke up, Rafe has been assuming that you didn’t care about him anymore, that you had long moved on from him and your relationship. He thought that you resented him, blamed him for the break up, which was honestly the main reason why he went back to the dating scene so quickly; to get over you. But hearing that you still cared about him? Enough to be nice to his new girlfriend and even ask about him? He wondered if there was still a chance for him and you to be together again.
If it weren’t for the fact that he already had a girlfriend.
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice, son?”
“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked with a wry grin and Dennis only let out a belly laugh, shaking his head.
“Rafe, most relationships these days end because of your own ego, from both parties. No matter how big the fight or problem seems, will it really be that important in hindsight?” Dennis asked him. “How long have you an your girl been together? Almost 5 years, no?”
Rafe nodded, not daring to correct Dennis. He had never outright told him that you had broken up in the first place.
“See, that’s half a decade. I can assure you, in another half, you’re not even gonna remember this fight.”
Yeah, I don’t know about that, Rafe thought.
“Do you love her?”
Turning his ring on his finger, Rafe let out a soft exhale, before nodding. “Yeah, I do.”
“See. Problem solved.”
Rafe lifted his head to grin at Dennis.
“Thanks. Is it okay if we cut today short?”
“Sure,” Dennis said, waving Rafe off when he reached for his wallet. “Lunch is on me. Go get your girl.”
“I will,” Rafe promised, pushing his chair back to stand up. “I just gotta take care of something else first.”
BONUS + II You
You were staring at your phone, text thread with Rafe open. It was Saturday night; you and Sarah had went out to a small beach party. Sarah had gone to fill her drink back up and you had used that time of solace to overthink. About Rafe.
For the past few week, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And you blamed your friends for it, really. First Wheezie, then Topper and then Sarah? Somehow all of them said that the break up was the worst idea, and even though you had always second guessed the choice to break up, this was the first time you actually actively regretted it.
The way Sarah seemed so sure that Rafe and Rebecca weren’t going to last long. Maybe you were wrong and they weren’t as happy as you thought. But then again, it wasn’t any of your business, was it? Who were you to put your nose into their relationship?
God, you shouldn’t be doing this.
“How long does Sarah need to fill her drink back up?” You muttered to yourself, finishing your vodka soda and burying the cup in the sand next to you, when you heard foot steps approaching.
“Finally! I was about to send a search group out for you!” you exclaimed, standing up and dusting the sand off your lap. “Seriously, how long does it take for-”
You froze when you turned around just to see Rafe standing in front of you, instead of Sarah. Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him, caught off guard.
“Rafe, hey,” you said, opting for casual. “Sorry. I thought you were Sarah.”
The corners of Rafe’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, I could tell.”
You looked at him, sighing a bit wistfully (mostly) internally, before you shifted on your feet nervously. “It was nice to see you,” you said, and it was true. “But um… I think I’ll go look for Sarah.” You gave him a small smile, before walking towards, and then past him.
“You’re still worried about me.”
You let out a startled laugh, pausing mid-step to turn back to him. “What?”
“You told Rebecca that you were glad that I had her and that you worried I work too much.”
“Of course I’m still worried about you,” you huffed, brushing your hair back. “You can’t be surprised about that.”
Rafe looked at you, and you could tell that this was news to him.
“Rafe.”
Rafe let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts. I thought you were mad at me or somethin’.”
“I didn’t reply to any of your texts because we said we’d do no contact for a while.
“Still,” Rafe muttered, kicking a rock. “I didn’t think it would be so easy for you-”
“And because you were happy with Rebecca, do you think it’s easy for me to see you with someone else?”
“I broke up with Rebecca last week.”
“What?!”
Mouth agape, you stared at him and Rafe only rubbed the back of his neck. “She… Wasn’t what I wanted.”
“Oh,” you only said, letting out a soft exhale. “I’m sorry about that.”
Rafe sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His gaze was trained on the floor for a bit, before he lifted his head to look at you.
“I want to try again… I want us to try again.”
“Rafe…”
You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide and you didn’t move as Rafe took a step towards you, reaching for your hand. Your fingers were cold in his but they quickly warmed to his touch, and the way he laced his fingers with yours, felt all too familiar.
“I love you. I never should have agreed to breaking up. It was arguably the second stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
“And what’s the stupidest?” you asked, corners of your mouth lifting.
“Not listening to you when you were just trying to help,” he answered, looking down at you, so vulnerable like you hadn’t seen him in a long time. “I rearranged my schedule at the company so I could take on less work, take more time off and relax. Take the time to get us to where we were before it all went shitty.”
Your heart was in your throat as you listened to him talk, unsure what to say.
“Rafe, I don’t know… “
“Baby, please,” he begged, squeezing your hand. “Do you love me, still?”
You scoffed. “That’s not fair.”
“Why? Because you do?”
“Of course I still love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to ignore your texts? To see you with another girl, so happy?”
Rafe shook his head, lifting his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t. Not really.”
You let out another sigh, looking at the way your hands were intertwined, how your heart had stopped racing, before you nodded, looking up at him. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A smile spread across Rafe’s face, so big it was so uncharacteristic for him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
It was like that word switched a flip inside of him, as he grabbed you by your nape gently, to kiss you, slotting his lips against your, and as your lips touched, it felt like you were finally home again. You only pulled away to breathe, both of you staring at each other like you couldn’t quite realize this was happening.
Sarah [05/11/2024: 10:45 pm]: (sent to 4 contacts) [picture attached: blurry photograph of you and Rafe kissing at the beach]
Topper [05/11/2024: 10:46 pm]: thank god.
Kelce [05/11/2024: 10:51 pm]: FINALLY!
Wheezie [05/11/2024: 10:59 pm]: !!!!!!
Barry [05/11/2024: 11:02 pm]: read at 11:02 pm
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: sooo.... what are we thinking?
2K notes · View notes
mywritersmind · 17 days ago
Text
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.1
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summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : suggestive themes! swearing! ‘enemies’ to lovers. probably my last sunny vacation fic for a while! get ready for winter fics!! cmt to be tagged in pt. 2 <3
word count : 4570
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Y/n!” Kika throws a pillow onto me. I groan in response, pulling the blanket over my head, “Get up! Get up! We’re leaving in thirty!”
I fall off the bed and start my rushed process of getting ready, we’re in Marmaris, Turkey for a little holiday. A holiday that I've been promised is for friends, yet every friend I have is with a man.
Kika, Alex, Rebecca, and Lily promised they would act like single ladies with me! That’s clearly not true because of the love they have for their boyfriends and how those same men never leave their sides.
The only other addition is someone I don’t want to talk about. Someone who’s a pain in my ass and the construction to my headache.
I’m instantly in a better mood when my friends and I start taking photos and making tik toks. I’m in a light blue dress and sandals, my skin is practically yearning to be tan but that will start tomorrow.
I have my own hotel room which I intend to spend no time in unless I'm hooking up with a hot turkish man. Lily holds my hand as we start walking. The guys said they would meet us there and I’ll never not treasure time with my girls.
The sun has already set but the sky is still a dark blue and orange. Lily squeals next to me, she’s in the cutest white mini dress, “I can’t believe we’re here!”
Kika laughs in a long yellow dress, “The trip literally made it out of the group chat!”
I eye them, “More like it was infiltrated by another groups chat!” Alex laughs and puts her hand on my arm.
“I promise it’ll be fun. I know you’re a little sad but we’ll find you someone!”
“It’s not even that- I just want to be with you guys.” They all seem a bit sad about it. It’s not like I don’t like their boyfriends, I consider them my friends too! It’s just that I was really looking forward to some much needed girl time.
“You are with us!” Alexandra frowns.
Lily swings are hands, “You’re with us and five other idiots who have money!”
This makes me laugh as we make it to the restaurant. It’s beautiful, part of the hotel, and looking right over the water.
The guys are already sitting. Charles, Pierre, Alex, Carlos all smile at me, kissing their girls as we sit. There is one missing, though. It’s hard to ignore but I'm definitely not complaining.
Drinks are ordered and our thoughts about the hotel is passed around. I became friends with this group through Lily, we grew up together and when Alex suggested I should come to a grand prix, I was hooked.
The other girls took to me immediately and were so excited to have another friend that they actually like. I don’t travel as much as them, but I do see them often enough.
We haven’t gotten together in a group like this though in forever!
I sip on my cocktail and talk to Carlos as his eyes stray past me. I turn to look at what he’s distracted by and have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
You know those people who just really piss you off? The type that just irks you even though you’ve tried to hear your friends out?
That is how I feel about Lando Norris.
He strolls up to our table as if he isn’t late. He’s in blue jeans and a white button down that’s definitely not buttoned enough. His hair is messy and looks like he just woke up, “Hey.” Is all he says before plopping down next to Carlos and sipping his water.
Rebecca already sends me a look that screams, ‘Leave it.’ So I do, I order my food and talk to my friends while avoiding the man two seats down from me.
It’s not just that Lando bugs me, It’s that he’s repeatedly cocky and flat out annoying. He teases me any chance he gets and it never fails to ruin my day. He knows it too.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Pierre asks as he puts his arm around Kikas chair, everyone’s food is nearly gone and I'm more than ready to climb into my plushy hotel bed.
Alex holds Lily’s hand, “Beach, explore, eat? That’s also my plan for every day of our trip.”
Charles nods, “My buddy has a boat out here that he said we can borrow one day.”
I smile and lean my head on Kika’s shoulder, “I'll be anywhere you guys go, with a book and an apple.”
“You still into that?” His voice already pisses me off. I look at Lando who’s staring at me, “Reading.”
I blink. “Are you still into being illiterate?”
Charles covers his laugh with a cough as Alexandra shakes her head, “Hey! You two need to keep it civil this trip.”
Carlos eyes Lando pointedly as he groans, “Why? I didn’t even do anything! The witch said I was illiterate!”
I sit up straighter immediately, leaning over Carlos as my friends talk in a haze around me, “You really wanna see a witch, Norris, I’ll fucking show you!”
“The worst thing you could do to me is throw sand in my face!” I groan as he rolls his eyes and Kika pulls me back into my seat.
“This is what we’re talking about!” When she whispers is when I realize the people dining around us are staring.
“It’s one week!” Pierre shakes his head, “One week of peace!”
I don’t dare look at Lando, my arms crossed.
He gives in peace, “I won’t start anything if she won’t.”
“Perfect, I'll have a great trip of silence.” Fine by me. I can ignore him for a week, easy.
Lily and Rebecca exchange looks as Lando speaks again, “It’ll be nice not hearing your-” Carlos slaps his arm and he shuts up.
I sigh in my seat, this is going to be an interesting week.
⋆༺
I start off my first full day with breakfast. I’m up early and decided to make the most of it by enjoying my food with a beach view.
I grin when I see that there’s two pieces of bacon left, grabbing them swiftly and plopping it onto my plate just when someone goes to reach for it.
I look up to see Lando. He’s sweaty and in running clothes, looking at me annoyed per usual, “Seriously? Who takes the last two pieces?”
I raise a brow, “Me. You literally just saw me do it.”
He gives me a bored expression, “Didn’t you ever get taught manners?”
“I got taught how to get what I want.” I bite into the piece of bacon just to watch him flinch. “Weren’t you taught that it’s not nice to be insufferable?”
“Can’t you share? It’s one piece.” I take another bite, pretending to think.
“Hm… No!”
“We’re supposed to be civil. Friends even!” He steps closer, “I know you would give the piece to Lily.”
“You’re too greedy.” I finish the first piece of bacon and start to walk away. He scoffs and follows me.
“Me!? Greedy?” He scoffs, plate still in hand. I eye it, it’s mostly empty except for a nutella crepe, “You know what- never mind.”
I nod, “Great job being civil, Norris. I’m so proud of you and you for giving up.”
He does not find this funny, “I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit.” His eyes narrow at my words.
“Fuck it, Free will!” and with that, he grabs the piece of bacon off my plate and runs!
“Norris!” I yell after him but when he turns, he’s smiling with a mouth full of bacon. “Dickhead.” I mumble to myself and continue getting my food.
⋆༺
I’m warm, I'm tipsy, and I'm listening to live music. I don’t think life could get any better. I sit up on my beachside chair, lifting my sunglasses to see Lily, Alex, Charles, and Alexandra playing chicken in the water.
Kika stirs next to me, she was asleep on her stomach but slowly sits up when she hears our friends laughing.
I watch Lando and Pierre floating and Carlos swimming towards them. Rebecca went to get drinks so that just leaves Kika and I.
“How’s the whole ‘civil’ thing going?” She’s in an orange bikini that makes her look unfairly tan.
I shrug, “Bad? I just can’t imagine talking to him normally. We always fight.” I sip my drink, the glass coats my hand in condensation but it cools me down.
“Maybe you should just fuck.” I choke on my drink. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laugh, “Sorry, Sorry!”
“Kika!” I slow my breathing, “Why would you say that!?”
“It makes sense! You’ve got a lot of pent up energy… I’m just saying!” I shake my head, pulling my sunglasses back on and laying down again. “I know you’re attracted to him.”
I pray that she thinks my cheeks are red from the sun, and not from her words. “I am not.”
“You can't lie to me!” She laughs, “It’s not a bad thing, Y/n. You both just need to shut up for two seconds and get eachother shirtless.” Lily walks up right as she says that.
She plops down onto the sand, “Whatever this is about- I agree!”
“She’s trying to get me to- Nope! I’m not even going to say it!” I can’t have that manifestation in my life.
“I think she should hook up with Lando.”
“Completely agree. Just make it quick.”
“If he’s with her, he’s gonna be quick.” Kika jokes and I actually laugh at that one.
“Okay enough! I’m not taking any advice from you two!” I stand, pulling my hair tie out of my hair and starting down the beach.
“Think about it!” Lily yells as I flip her off.
Now all I can think about is hooking up with him. I mean, I hate the dude, but I’m not blind.
Lando is fucking fit. But it’s hard for me to see past his assholeness. So the probability that i’m going to fuck him, is slim. Very slim. Like ZERO.
Just as I'm off in my Lando Norris shirtless world, a shirtless Lando Norris walks up to me. He’s exiting the ocean, pushing his wet curls back as he laughs with Carlos.
I look away as soon as I get a glimpse of his torso. The cool water feels great on my legs as I walk in the ocean. I sink down and dunk my head, opening my eyes underwater, I see the tiny fish and shells.
I reach down and grab a handful of sand, when I get air again, Carlos and Lando are next to me. I push the sand off my hand to reveal some shells and a tiny crab, “Aw!” I smile at it, showing it to the boys.
Carlos raises his brows, “Looks harmful.”
“Harmful?” I glance at him, “He’s a baby!” I hold it closer to him and he backs away like it’s going to jump on him.
I turn to Lando and do the same, he backs away as well, “Pussy.” I say it to his face and he clearly takes it as a challenge.
He holds his hand out and snatches the crab right from my hand, “Are you just a thief by nature?”
He gives me a look before bringing his hand closer to his face to examine the sea creature. I step closer to see it, “It’s adorable.”
“It’s a crab.”
“Thank you, Norris, for your insightful words of wisdom.” I go to take it back from him but he jumps and throws his hand down.
I let out a huge laugh when I realized it’s holding onto his thumb, “Shit! Ow!”
I keep laughing as Lando panics, swinging his hand around to try to get it off. Carlos is long gone by now, not amused by his friends' antics.
The crab finally unclips itself from Lando and he looks like he was just betrayed. I grin, “Maybe I am a witch!”
He looks me up and down, holding his hand and thinking. “If you call me a bitch that crab won’t be the worst thing that hurts you today.”
And then something weird happens.
He smiles.
He just smiles and walks away.
⋆༺
LANDO
Marmaris is stunning. The water is clear and besides me getting bitten, I'm having a great time. We end up going into town to get lunch and I'm faced with the issue of Y/n’s ass in my face as we walk up what feels like a million stairs.
I really feel like she’s doing this on purpose but I could be thinking that to just make myself feel better about checking her out.
She’s in tiny low waisted jean shorts. I can see her bikini bottoms peeking out from the sides. Her top is a crocheted cover up so her sliver of a bathing suit is still on display.
Carlos pushes my back when I slow down on the steps, I turn around to swear at him but he’s giving me an all knowing look so I close my mouth.
After what feels like hours of staring at Y/n’s backside, we make it to the lunch place. It’s hidden quite far up and we all get cramped into the room with a huge window and a view of lemon trees.
With our stupidly coupled up group, I'm forced to sit with Y/n. She’s across from me, sipping on her water and leaning on the table with her arms crossed.
When she notices I'm staring at her, she glares at me. I can tell she’s about to say something snappy, but eyes our friends and shuts her mouth.
As much as she pissed me off, I find it fun to annoy her. I like the way her cheeks heat and how her lips press together, but I would never admit that to her.
“Did you go for a run this morning?” Carlos asks me while shoveling food into his mouth.
“Yeah and the gym- it’s nice.”
“And quiet?” I nod, knowing what he means. Five Formula 1 drivers on vacation together is pretty hard to miss. But besides a stare or two, no one has said anything to us.
Lily claps her hands together, “Who wants to go golfing with me on wed-”
Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands, “No!” Kika looks horrified at the suggestion as well.
“Yes!” Carlos and I say at the same time. Lily has been a great addition to our golfing group and by far the best out of the three of us.
Rebecca laughs, “I’m with Y/n on this one. I’m feeling… spa?” This immediately perks Y/n up.
“That sounds perfect!” Alex smiles, “Girls day! Minus Lily because she’s actually good at a sport.”
Charles eyes us all, “I wanna go to the spa. I hate golfing.”
⋆༺
YOU
When Rebecca suggested we take a cooking class, I thought it was a great idea! I’m not the best cook so why not learn something? I had a bad feeling as soon as we entered and the room was decorated with hearts.
“Welcome! Welcome!” A man ushers us in along with two other groups. The room is large with one wall completely open and facing the beach. “Everybody get a table and we shall begin!”
“I knew I missed something on the website…” Alex cringes as we stare at the tables set for two, “Sorry? Lando, careful with Y/n and knives!”
A couples cooking class!? You’ve got to be kidding. I look at Lando the same time he turns to me, “Well, love… Let me handle the sharp things. I value my life.”
This is going to be the longest hour ever.
“My lovely people in love!” The man is short, with gray hair and the biggest smile I've seen in a while, “My name is Ali and today we begin making the dough for Kemal Pasha!” Apparently the kind we’re making is sweet balls of dough with a very delicious sounding syrup.
I’m standing next to Lando who’s struggling with his apron. They have huge heart pockets and his is bright green. As fun as it is to see him struggle, I want to start cooking soon.
“Give me that.” I swat his hands away and step behind him, taking the pieces of fabric and tying a knot.
“Thank you, Sweetness.” I suspect that this teasing won’t end soon, considering the man teaching the class asked everyone what their names were and put a name tag on each table of the couples ‘ship’ name.
I tie it tight and he flinches, “Hey my girl is trying to kill me!” I roll my eyes and loosen the bow, listening to the man and thanking the woman who’s walking around to make sure everything is correct.
I pour in all the ingredients and Lando starts stirring. I look around at all the couples, they’re doing everything together while looking all lovey dovey.
It makes me miss my ex. Which is weird because we barely acted like this alone. But still, seeing Alex and Lily laugh with flour already on their faces makes me sad.
“Angel!” Lando calls for me again as I put my hand on my hip. He has his hand out that’s covered in white powder, “C’mere!”
“No!” I back up but he’s already pulling me in and squeezing my face. I frown, my face squished between his hand as he laughs. I can feel the flour covering my face. I put on a slow smile when he drops his hand, “Aw, love bug!”
Nothing about my tone is loving and I can tell he’s not excited by the way his face drops. “Now darling…” He backs away as I pour some of the flour from the container into my hand, “I told you i’ll let you lick food off of me later, not here!”
I scoff at his audacity and throw the flour right into his face. When he opens his eyes, I slap my hands over my mouth. His whole face is white and when he breathes out, some comes out of his mouth.
I hold back a laugh as he stares at me, along with the rest of the room, “Oh baby… you’ve got a little.” I motion to his whole face, “Just a little something right there.”
“Er…” The man blinks at us, “True love comes in many forms!” He laughs uncomfortably as we get back to mixing our dough.
“That was not a fair move, Love.” Lando whispers to me as I knead the dough between my hands. His face is wiped off but the flour still resides a bit in his hair and cheeks.
“All's fair in love and war.” I say sweetly.
“Alright ladies, If your man isn’t helping you with his big strong muscles…” Ali eyes us, “Remind them who you are! Men, help your women!”
I turn back at Lando, looking up at the driver, “Do you need reminding?”
He just bites his lip and turns me back around, his hands on my waist. That, I did not expect. My hands go back to the dough in the bowl and his arms move into view, copying the other couples and massaging the treat with me.
I swallow and eye the veins in his arms that go all the way to his hands. His very big hands. The same hands that softly reach over mine.
His touch is surprisingly gentle as he matches my movements. I try to not think about how close he is to me, and focus on the dough but fuck that because I can feel him behind me.
I move back a bit unconsciously and his hand goes to waist to stop me, “Do you need reminding?” His voice is deep in my ear and I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though I know my cheeks are hot.
I thank god when Ali says we will be moving onto rolling the dough into little balls.
I swiftly move away from Lando and don’t dare look at Alex or Kika who I know is looking at us. I start rolling the dough in between my hands.
Lando glances at me, his balls sort of uneven and too small, “Your balls are ugly.” Lando chokes on air and whips his head around to look at me.
“Excuse me?” I roll my eyes at his suggestive tone and show him one of mine, “Ah so you’re a ball expert? Working from experience?”
He’s so childish it makes me want to throw one of these at him. Sadly, I'm not above acting suggestively, “Never worked with any so small.” I shrug as he stares at me. That shuts him up really quick as we place them on a round baking sheet.
We take a short break while they bake and I venture outside, looking over the balcony to the sea far below us.
My skin feels rejuvenated by the sun, I’m tanner and I swear the air is just different here. Alex appears next to me, he looks quite happy, “Having fun?”
I shrug and realize that I actually have been. “Uh… yeah.”
“You know, I think everyone else thinks you’re a real couple. It’s cute.” I gape at him. Is Alexander Albon betraying me right now?
“It is not cute. He’s bullying me.” He just snorts.
“Sure…”
I frown when Ali calls us back in. Lando and I are mostly quiet while stirring our syrup. As it boils, he nudges me. I look up to see him watching another couple.
They’re practically making out and feeling eachother up. I let out a laugh that his eyes widened at, “You’re so not inconspicuous.” He whispers, leaning down a bit.
“They are definitely not paying any attention to me…” They’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice when Ali turns their mini stove top off so their sauce doesn’t burn.
He looks down at me one last time, sending me a tiny smile. I think it’s the first time I'm genuinely attracted to him when his shirt is still on. Shit.
⋆༺
LANDO
Besides Y/n trying to kill me with the dessert we made, we were civil throughout the rest of the class. We get to take home a small box which leaves everyone in a good mood.
“Here, pretty, I don’t think I can eat that without feeling sick.” I don’t mean to call her that, but I just say what comes to my mind. I hand her the box and takes it without any change of expression.
I’m ready to leave but Ali claps his hands together one more time, “My lovebirds!” Y/n gives me a look that I laugh at, “One more gift for a very special couple of… well, couples!”
He pulls out three pieces of paper. Handing one to the couple that was making out he says, “Most affectionate!”
Then he turns to Pierre and Kila and hands them one, “Best dessert!” I realize these papers are some typos of superlatives.
I think he’s going to go to Charles and Alexandra, but he turns to Y/n and I. A big grin on his face, he hands me a paper. I read it before he says it and my eyes widen, “The most authentic love!” I don’t look at her, I can’t.
“I hope one day you all come back!” And with that, we’re ushered back and stripped of our aprons.
Y/n is already walking down the marble steps with Lily and Rebecca next to her. Carlos just shakes his head and slaps his hand on my shoulder, “Man… Congratulations!”
I eye him as Alex laughs, “I’m framing that!”
⋆༺
YOU
Six hours later, i’m in a tiny white dress, my hair curled and makeup done, and on my way with Rebecca and Alex to a club.
Everyone’s already left but Alex took extra long to slick back her hair. “So!” Rebecca grins as we walk past the beach, “Plan for tonight? Hook up with a local? Make out on the beach?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm, “I’ll see where the night and vodka takes me! I really just need a hot dance partner and a good drink.”
And that’s exactly what I get. I get my drink and well.. many hot dance partners! My friends and I scream the lyrics of the songs we know, holding hands and jumping around.
The club is part of the resort we’re staying at. It’s half on the beach and half in the beach bar that has a 24 hour drink service. I laugh at the guys who are awkwardly waiting for their girls to join them again.
“Okay, go, go!” They leave me at the bar and as soon as they’re gone, a man approaches me.
He’s very tall and very blonde, “Hi.” he’s got an accent but I can’t tell from where, “I couldn’t help but notice you dancing…” I listen to the same line that a hundred guys have fed me before. “Could I buy you a drink?”
Now this is what I like! Ten minutes later I'm dancing with him and a vodka lemonade. His hands are on my waist as I laugh.
He’s hot against me, his hair sweaty and salty. His name is Leon and he really likes my dress. I have a feeling he would like me without it too.
“Are you staying at the hotel?” He asks, screaming in my ear.
I nod, “Are you?”
“I’m staying in town with a friend!” I nod and sip my drink as he talks, “Do you know him?” I frown at his words, turning to see who he’s talking about.
I roll my eyes at Lando who’s standing with a pretty girl but staring at me. I turn back to Leon, “No!”
He looks like this annoys him, “Well i’m not surprised! You’re hot!” I nod as the music continues and keep dancing with him.
He turns me around so he’s staring at my ass instead of my face. But I just slip my fingers into my hair and keep dancing. I open my eyes to see Lando again. The girl is still talking but he’s still staring at me.
I run my middle finger around the rim of my glass, the sugar lifting onto my skin. His expression stays dark and focused on me as his hand goes to his jeans pocket. I lift my finger to lips, licking off the sugar without breaking eye contact.
He brings his drink to his lips and that’s when I realize I've had a bit too much to drink because he looks too damn hot.
He’s in a light blue shirt, his silver rings and LN4 necklace sat on his skin like it belongs there. His hair is damp with I don’t know with what… sweat, water, or the air, I don’t care. His jaw ticks at Leon’s hand moves from my waist to my stomach, my head dropping back on his shoulder, and spinning back around.
He kisses me, it’s messy and drunken but I don’t care. It’s only when he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” When I'm massively turned off.
I end up back with my friends, Lando nowhere in sight and a smile on my face as we sit at the bar and drink.
pt.2
670 notes · View notes
thevillainswhore · 8 months ago
Text
A Forbidden Invitation
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Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.
Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 
It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.
You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 
“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”
Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 
Oh no. The puppy eyes.
“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 
The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 
“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 
The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“
“Becca!” 
“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 
“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 
“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 
She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”
The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 
The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 
Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.
Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”
You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 
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Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 
However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 
The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 
So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 
In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 
You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 
The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 
Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 
Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 
Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 
If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 
Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 
Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 
You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 
The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 
With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 
“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 
Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 
But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 
The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 
Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 
The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 
“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  
The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 
His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 
Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 
“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 
You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 
The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.
“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 
You did do anything he asked. 
You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 
Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 
Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 
You were aching for him. 
With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 
Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”
“Babe!” 
Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 
You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 
Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 
The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 
Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 
Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 
Who the fuck was this girl? 
Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 
You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.
The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 
Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 
Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 
With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 
“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.
But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 
Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 
Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 
You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 
Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 
However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 
I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 
I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 
Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 
J.B.B.
“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 
You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 
Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 
You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 
She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 
“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 
Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 
“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 
The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 
“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 
Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 
Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.
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The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  
But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 
That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 
Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 
Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 
Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 
But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 
As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.
You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 
You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 
Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 
You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  
As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 
You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 
Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 
But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 
Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.
You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 
The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 
Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”
Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.
He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 
Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 
Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”
“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 
It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 
Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 
Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 
Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  
You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 
“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 
“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 
When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 
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You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 
An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 
You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 
Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 
The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 
Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 
Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.
“I see you’re working hard.” 
Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  
The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 
It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 
He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 
“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 
“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 
Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“
“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 
“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 
Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 
A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.
His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 
You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 
“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 
The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 
“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 
“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 
“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 
“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 
“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 
Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 
Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.
Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 
His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”
“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 
Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 
Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  
You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 
It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 
For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.
Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”
Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 
You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 
“Dad! Where are you?” 
Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 
It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 
Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 
You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 
“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 
This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 
But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 
Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 
You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 
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After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.
Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 
“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 
“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 
Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 
You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 
“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”
But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 
The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 
Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.
“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 
You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.
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It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 
However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 
The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 
The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 
Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  
Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 
You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.
But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 
Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.
“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 
Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 
Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 
“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 
You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 
A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 
“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 
“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 
You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 
“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 
Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 
“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.
Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 
The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 
“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 
You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.
A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 
“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 
Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 
Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”
Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”
His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 
“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 
Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 
You so desperately wanted to feel special. 
Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 
The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 
You were so fucking tired. 
The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 
Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 
The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 
Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?
Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 
Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 
With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 
He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 
The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 
He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 
Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 
His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 
Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 
“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 
You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 
Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 
Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 
The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 
“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 
The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 
“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 
You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 
You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 
Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 
He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 
Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 
“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 
Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 
“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”
Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 
Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 
While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 
Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 
The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 
“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”
You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 
“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 
The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 
“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 
It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 
Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 
You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 
Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 
His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 
The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 
Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 
You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 
But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 
You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 
Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 
“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 
“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 
Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 
“Yes! Please!” you cried. 
Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 
You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 
Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 
His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 
“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 
Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 
“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”
Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 
His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 
With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  
“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 
“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 
“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 
“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 
Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 
His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 
“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 
“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  
You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”
But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 
You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 
“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 
Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 
“Yes, what?” 
You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 
Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 
You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 
His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 
“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 
Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 
“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 
“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 
You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 
“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 
You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 
You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 
“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 
“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 
“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 
“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.
Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 
Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 
You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 
An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 
But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 
You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 
“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 
“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 
It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 
Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 
“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 
Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 
A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 
“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 
Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 
Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 
A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 
You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 
But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 
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harrysfolklore · 6 months ago
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not a prize to win - cl16
summary: seeing charles with other admirers makes you upset, even though you know he loves you
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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If looks could kill, you swear that the one you were giving Charles right now would have him buried.
Being with Charles for over three years now, you were used to girls coming over to him all the time. Whether they were fans, reporters or just random women, you had seen it all. Usually, you handled it with grace, trusting in the bond you and Charles had built over the years. But today was different.
The scene replays in your mind, the influencer's high-pitched laughter ringing in your ears. She had sauntered into the Ferrari garage, her confidence palpable as she made a beeline for Charles, draped herself over him, her hands lingering a little too long on his arm, her body a little too close to his.
And what upset you the most, was the fact that Charles didn't stop her.
"Charles, darling, you're going to be amazing out there," she had gushed, batting her eyelashes.
"Thank you," Charles had smiled politely, "I have a good feeling about this race."
You had stood a few feet away, feeling an irrational surge of possessiveness. You wanted to march over, to insert yourself between them, to remind her that Charles was yours. But instead, you had stayed put, your feet rooted to the spot.
Rebecca had noticed your discomfort and had gently steered you away. "Let's go take a walk," she had suggested, leading you out of the garage.
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"Do you think I overreacted?" you asked Rebecca as she gave your phone back.
"Not at all, love," she assured, "I mean, If she had been throwing herself at Carlos like that, I would be just as angry."
"I just," you said as you walked back to Ferrari hospitality, "I know he's loyal to me and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me like that, but it's not the first time he's oblivious of people shamelessly flirting with him right in front of me, and that's what upsets me."
"I get it. It's not about trust, it's about respect," Rebecca nodded sympathetically, her arm around your shoulder, "And sometimes, these girls just have no boundaries."
You sighed, feeling a little better having voiced your frustrations. "I just wish he would see it from my perspective."
As you approached the hospitality suite, you made your way towards Charles' room, after saying goodbye to Rebecca and thanking her for listening to you.
You knocked softly on the door, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and apprehension.
"Come in," Charles's voice called from inside.
You pushed the door open and stepped in. Charles looked up from his phone and sighed at the upset look still on your face.
"Amour, are you really mad at me right now?"
"I told you I was," you said, "I and thought you wanted me to come here to talk, not to keep dismissing my feelings."
Charles put his phone down and stood up, walking over to you with a concerned look in his eyes. "I do want to talk, chérie. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was ignoring your feelings. Please, tell me what's on your mind."
"She was all over you, battling her fake eyelashes and invading your personal space and you didn't mind at all."
"She was just being friendly, that's all," Charles said, trying to keep his patience.
"Just being friendly?" you gave a laugh in disbelief and raised your eyebrows at him, “Charles, that was not just friendly. That was flirtatious and disrespectful,” you said firmly, crossing your arms over your chest, “And you didn't even try to set boundaries.”
Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't want to be rude. She's an influencer and you know the team wants us to interact with them when they visit the garage. It's part of my job.”
"Part of your job? Are you listening to yourself?" your eyes narrowed, "So letting her drape herself all over you is part of your job now?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Charles winced, "I just meant that sometimes, I have to be polite, even if it makes me uncomfortable."
“But at the expense of my feelings?” you shot back, “I stood there feeling like a third wheel while she fawned over you," he reached out to take your hands, but you pulled away, stepping back, "I hate seeing them treat you like some prize they can win. And I hate even more that you don't seem to care."
"I'm sorry amour, I really am," he searched for your eyes but you looked away, "What happened today hurt you and I'm sorry for that. I don't want you to feel this way."
"It's not just about today, Charles," you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, "It's about how often this happens. Girls come up to you, they flirt, they touch you, and you don't seem to notice or care. And not it turns out it's part of your job to flirt with them."
Charles let out a deep sigh again, putting his hands on his hips and looking away from you. You could tell that he was getting frustrated, but you were upset and you needed to get this out.
"I don't flirt with them," Charles said firmly, turning back to face you. His face now showing a mixture of frustration and a bit of hurt"I might be polite, I might be friendly, but I don't flirt, I never have. The fact that you accuse me of flirting with other girls when you know how much I love you is hurting me."
"Maybe not intentionally, but that's how it feels to me," you replied, your voice softening a bit. "And it hurts me too. I know you love me, but sometimes it feels like you don't see how these interactions affect me."
"Then meet me halfway," he raised his voice a bit, not quite yelling but loud enough to make you flinch a bit, "What should I do? Ignore them or be mean to them so PR can give me shit for that later? Walk around with a 'don't speak to me because my girlfriend gets jealous' sign?"
"Don't yell at me, Charles," your voice came out as barely a whisper.
"I'm not yelling at you," Charles rubbed his face with his hands before looking at you, "I'm not, baby. I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from and why you're so upset about this. I have to get ready for the race shortly and this argument doesn't look like it's ending soon."
"You know what," you threw your hands up in surrender, "Forget I said anything, okay? I'm just a jealous freak who's in the wrong here."
You walked towards the door and grabbed the handle ready to head out, but Charles pulled you by your free hand, "Amour, come on," you turned to look at him, "I'm not getting into the car while we're like this."
"Charles, I don't want to keep arguing either," you said softly, feeling the tension in the air, "I just want you to understand why I feel this way."
Charles sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I do understand, amour. I do. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like your feelings don't matter. They do. You matter more to me than anything else," he said sincerely, stepping closer to you.
You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. Despite your frustration, you knew that Charles didn't mean to hurt you. He was just caught up in the demands of his career, trying to balance his personal life with his public image.
"Go get ready for the race," you said, aware that his team would come get him any minute now, "We'll talk later, but we're okay."
You let Charles pull you closer this time, wrapping your arms around his wait and leaning forward to wrap his around your shoulders as he brought you in for a hug and pecked your head a couple of times, "I love you, okay? Don't you ever doubt that, it hurts me when you do."
"I love you too," you pulled away and pecked his lips softly, "Be safe out there, I'll see you right after."
Charles watched you leave the room, feeling a pang of regret for letting the argument escalate. He knew you were sensitive about these situations, and he hated seeing you upset. But he also felt frustrated by the accusation of flirting, especially when he believed he was just being polite.
As he got ready for the race, his mind kept drifting back to your conversation. He tried to push it aside and focus on the race ahead, but the tension lingered, affecting his concentration.
Despite the distraction, Charles managed to put in a solid performance, crossing the finish line and securing a spot on the podium. The crowd cheered as he stepped out of his car, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake off the argument with you, the hurt in your eyes haunting him.
After the podium celebrations and the interviews, Charles made his way back to the Ferrari hospitality suite. He hoped you would still be there, that you would be willing to talk and resolve things.
You were waiting for him, perched on one of the couches in the hospitality suite, your arms wrapped around yourself as you watched the post-race interviews on the screen. When Charles walked in, still in his racing suit, your eyes met and he walked towards you.
"Hey," he said softly, approaching you cautiously.
"Hey," you replied, standing up and taking a step towards him. "Congratulations on the podium."
"Thank you," he said, but there was a hesitance in his voice.
The soft look on his face was too much for you to handle, so you threw your arms around his broad shoulders and buried your face on his neck. You felt a sigh of relief leave his body and his arms come around your back.
"I hate fighting with you," you said against his neck, "Sorry for being such a brat today and almost ruining your race."
"You're not a brat, amour," Charles held you tighter, his voice gentle as he spoke, "And you didn't ruin anything. I'm sorry too for not understanding sooner."
You pulled back slightly to look at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit. "I just get so scared sometimes, seeing all those girls trying to get your attention. I know you love me, but it's hard to watch."
"I understand, and I'll try to be more mindful," Charles cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall, "I don't want you to feel like you're not my priority because you are, always."
You leaned into him again, resting your head on his chest and feeling his hand draw circles around your back, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace.
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, and eventually your lips.
"I love you, Charlie. And I know I can be a bit jealous sometimes, but it's just because I care so much about you."
"I love you too, more than anything," he replied, his voice warm and soothing, "It's kind of hot when you get all jealous and possessive, I have to admit."
You pinched his side playfully, making him squirm, "Not when it makes us fight though, I hate when we do that."
You smiled up at Charles, feeling the tension finally dissapear, "Promise me you'll try to be more aware of those situations? And if a girl gets too handsy, you'll shut it down?"
"I promise, amour. No more obliviousness on my part," Charles said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "And I'll make sure to maintain appropriate boundaries."
"Good," you said, snuggling closer to him. "Because you're all mine, Leclerc."
"Like I said, possessive. It turns me on," Charles teased, placing his hand above your bum.
"Charles, stop!" you moved his hand away, "We're still at your workplace with all of teammates around."
"Let's get out of here, then."
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freedomfireflies · 11 months ago
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Infinite You*
Summary: The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.
(Based on this request! There is no third, just Harry and Reader!)
Word Count: 8.6k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Sir Kink
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You’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive Harry Styles is.
Granted, that’s because you’ve never really allowed yourself to notice how attractive he is, but you notice today because that’s why you’re here. To notice. To study. To decide if this is worth it.
He’s not making it easy on you. Walking around the apartment with his shirt off, and his sweatpants low, and his hair wet. Reaching into the refrigerator and showcasing all the stunningly hard muscles in his back. The scattered tattoos. The chunky rings on his fingers.
You swallow.
You hadn’t planned to entertain this idea. You thought it was weird—strange in more ways than one. But you agreed to talk to him, see if it was a good fit, and now…here you are.
“So,” he calls as he straightens up and turns to face you. “What do you wanna know?”
“Uh…what do you want to tell me?” you call back. You wish you were smoother.
But he only smirks. He knows you’re nervous. And he knows you’re staring, which seems to amuse him. “Well, first things first, nothing happens that you don’t want.”
He’s kind. Considerate. Hot. It makes your stomach flip.
“Okay,” you say before swallowing thickly. “Great, I mean. That’s…that’s good.”
He walks back to the living room. He’s still amused. You’re still sweating. “If you do decide you want to, we can talk about ground rules and boundaries. Decide what you’re comfortable with. Go over when and where. Things like that.”
“Okay…okay, good.”
“Yeah. And if we don’t want to, we won’t.”
“Right.”
He takes a sip of his water. He’s hiding his smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope.”
He’s unconvinced. Hesitating a moment before crouching down near your legs and glancing up at you as though to implore you and chastise you all with the same look. 
“Kitten,” he murmurs, and your heart just about beats out of your chest. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to be honest with me. That’s one of my rules. I need you to be vocal. Tell me exactly what you want and what you don’t.”
And you understand. You do. Consent isn’t a question. And you admire that he’s so adamant and unwavering. But that doesn’t mean you know what you want to say.
“I know,” you whisper, and his presence is different. Before, he was Harry: Rebecca’s boyfriend.
Now he’s Harry: the guy you might sleep with.
And it’s strange, and it’s new, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And you’re having quite the time trying to wrap your head around it.
But his presence is soothing. Calm. Doing more for your nerves than you initially realized. 
“It’s okay,” he whispers back, reaching a hand toward your knee. Long fingers squeezing it once. Comfort. “We’re just talking, yeah?”
You nod and force the first question out of your throat. “Do you…do you guys do this a lot?”
“No,” he answers coolly. He’s relaxed, and it helps. “Not with friends. Not really at all. Not unless it’s right. We don’t force it. If we find someone, we find someone.”
“Ah.” You nod again like you understand but you don’t. “And…you guys are both okay with this? Really?”
He smiles. Squeezes your knee again. “Yes. As long as you are.”
You smile back, and you realize your heart isn’t racing as much anymore. “Right. And…you don’t think this is weird? I mean…her pimping you out just to help me?”
He laughs, and you decide right then and there that you love the sound of his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he admits. “She’s not pimping me out. I offered.”
You lean back. “You offered?”
“She told me you weren’t having a good time with the guys you were meeting, and I said I could help.” He shrugs once. He’s so calm. “She liked the idea and told me she’d bring it to you.”
And you remember when she did. Remember how casually she’d said, “If you ever wanna use Harry…you’re more than welcome to.”
And you’d blinked at her because you couldn’t understand it at all. 
But she explained, “He and I have always been in an open relationship. And if you need a bit of…practice or just need someone to scratch that itch, I think he’d be really good. You could talk to him, see what you think?”
You were sure she was messing with you. You weren’t desperate and horny enough to go fucking her boyfriend, but she was more than all right with it. She assured you of that many times. Suggested you just talk to him and see how it made you feel. She gave you his number. You made a time to meet.
And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.
“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods. 
“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”
“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”
“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”
A beat. He lets this settle.
“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”
You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”
He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you. 
“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”
You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.
But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.
“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”
His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”
And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.
You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”
He does his best not to appear too excited, but you can see it there behind his grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You straighten your shoulders. “If…I mean, it’s just once, right? We do this, it’s over, we all go back to how it was before, and we don’t talk about it.”
Another beat. “If that’s what you want.”
“Oh, it is,” you assure him with a soft scoff. “No, I’m already gonna have a hard time looking you in the eye. And Rebecca. This is…it’s just…it’s weird.”
He drops his hand to your knee and squeezes it once more. “We don’t have to do this—”
“No, I do want to,” you assure him. “I really do, I just…it is weird. Maybe a good weird, but still weird. And I’m okay with that. I just…I want to, and we can, and then we don’t have to talk about it. Okay?”
 He nods. “Okay.”
The living room grows quiet. You aren’t sure what to do now. You aren’t sure if you’ve offended him. You don’t think he ever gets offended. He never has before. As Rebecca’s Harry.
But today he is Just Harry and Just Harry is very calm as he waits for you to continue.
You swallow again. “So…now what?”
“You tell me.” He stands, and you’re eye-level with his bare, toned stomach. 
“Uh…okay.” You shift. “Do…you wanna do it tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Do…do you wanna do it at my place?”
“Sure.”
“Do…I need to pick up…condoms?”
He smiles. “I’ve got some I’ll bring.” He nods at you. “And I’m clean, too. Got tested right after she told me.”
God, this is all so real. “Good. I did, too. Not that there was really much…chance. Since it’s been, like…three years.”
He doesn’t have a reaction to this admission. Most guys do. They think it’s weird you’ve been so long without sex. They think you’re a virgin again. They don’t want anything to do with you.
Harry has no reaction. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or relieved, or embarrassed for you, or even repulsed. 
“Good,” is all he says before running a hand through his damp curls. “What time would you like me to meet you?”
“Uh…5? No…7?” You wince. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but…if it’s just a few minutes, then—”
“A few minutes?” Now he’s amused. “Is that all you think I can last?”
Your expression drops. “I…no. No, I just…I don’t know. Most guys tap out after a bit, so I figured—”
“Kitten,” he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “I plan to last as long as you’ll let me.”
Your stomach drops next. “Uh…okay. Great. Then…5?”
“Five,” he repeats, and you’re thrilled. Nervous. Thrilled. “We can talk more about what we want when we get there, yeah?”
You nod. “Sure. That’s…good. That’s good.”
He smiles, and just like that…the date is set.
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4:58 comes and you’re a nervous wreck. He’s already here—you’ve just buzzed him in—and now he’s walking up your steps. And you are standing in your kitchen, pacing, tugging on your robe, and trying not to sweat. Again.
When you let him in, he’s…breathtaking. Somehow, in the few short hours since you last saw him, he got exponentially hotter. 
His hair is dry, and his curls are styled in a way that makes you want to run your hands through them. He’s wearing a shirt, but it’s oversized and soft. Easy to slip out of. His jeans are ripped but they hug his hips perfectly.
He’s…sex. He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, and you are so incredibly nervous, you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“Hi,” he smiles as he slips off his shoes and shuts your door. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No, you’re not,” you argue quickly. “You’re perfect. You’re—fuck. No, you’re…this is good.”
He laughs and lets his eyes trail down your covering. “Are you…did I interrupt something, or—”
“No. No, sorry. I, uh…I figured this would be easier,” you explain, now absentmindedly playing with the tie. “You know, I could just slip this off, and we could go.”
He hums, but you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “I see. And…is that how you’d like to proceed? You just want to rip the band-aid?”
“Um…” Shit, do you? “I don’t…know. I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”
He nods now and asks for your hand. You give it to him—rather shyly—before allowing him to lead you toward your sofa. He sits you both down and brings your attention to him.
“I will do whatever you want me to do,” he begins. “But…I’d like to know what you really want. What you fantasize about, what makes you feel good. When you’re with someone, or when you picture being with someone, what are they doing? What are you doing?”
You feel your face grow warm. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with him, and yet…he feels so safe. You trust him. You don’t mind admitting some of your weirder preferences. After all, Rebecca has told you before about what he’s like in bed. He’s…good. Very good. And into some weirder things, too. 
And maybe now you understand why she was so happy for you to ask him.
“I…I guess I like…to be taken care of,” you admit quietly, instantly glancing down at your lap to avoid his reaction.
But just as quickly, he’s slipping a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes back to his. “Yeah, Kitten?”
Your stomach wrenches. You nod.
“Tell me more,” he encourages gently. 
You fumble with your robe again. “Uh…I don’t really like…to make decisions. A lot of times. I…I feel better if I’m being told what to do.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay. I can do that. What else, baby?”
Baby. You think you might die. “Um…I think I like it rough. Or…rougher. Like…spanking, and…hair pulling, and choking…and stuff.”
He’s so entertained by your timid demeanor, and he chuckles again as he squeezes your jaw. “Is that right? D’you want me to spank you, Kitten?”
You really might die. “I…yes? I think so?”
“I need you to do more than think,” he says now, a bit firmer. “When I ask, I expect a clear answer. Is that understood?”
You nod, and you don’t even realize.
“So do you want me to spank you?”
“…yes. I do.”
“Good girl.” He brushes his thumb along your lips, and your mouth parts for him. “What else? What kind of positions do you like? Do you have any particular porn you like to watch?”
You look back down at your lap, and he smirks. “I…I don’t really watch it as much as…I read it.”
“Oh?” He dips down, looking for your attention. “You like to read it, baby? What do you like to read?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Just…just smut.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
And you’re so embarrassed, yet somehow so enamored, and you tell him before you can stop yourself. “Just…sometimes it’s rough. And…taboo. And…dangerous, I guess.”
He hums again, considering this. “Like to be naughty when you’re alone, don’t you?”
And you feel like you’re on fire, burying your face in your hands with a soft groan until he immediately tugs them back down. 
“Uh-uh,” he warns, and goosebumps dance down your skin from where he’s touching you. “What did I say, hm? None of that. Come on.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just…I’m so nervous.”
Another soft smile as he cups your cheek and scoots closer. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, you can feel him. You can practically taste him and it leaves you with this insatiable need for more.
“I know,” he says calmly. “But it’s just me, yeah? You’ve known me forever. You know I’d never want to hurt you or scare you or embarrass you. And I’d never judge you.”
“I know,” you echo. “This is just all so…real.”
He hums and seems to consider something. Then, he nods his chin at you. “I wanna try something. Would that be all right?”
You swallow. “Okay.”
“Close your eyes.”
Your lashes flutter. “What?”
“Close your eyes. Just for a minute.”
So, you do. And the living room falls eerily quiet as you wait for whatever instruction might come next. 
But it never comes. He has no instruction. He’s quiet.
And then…
He’s kissing you.
Soft lips ghost across your own. They tease and they taunt. You can’t see him, but you can feel him—can taste him. He’s kissing you, and he’s taking your mouth against his, and he’s so…he’s so.
And not being able to see him does wonders. Because you lose all inhibitions and simply take. You accept what he’s offering and you delight in doing so.
He was right.
You grow hungrier—needier. You let your hands find his shoulders and hoist yourself up onto your knees. In turn, he takes hold of your hips to keep you steady and helps bring you onto his lap. It’s like you’re one. Like you’ve rehearsed this, done it a million times. A fluid, lustful, heavy dance that ends with pants and whispers of each other’s names.
And you forget how strange this might be. You forget your hesitations and your concerns. You allow yourself to have him and to enjoy it.
And it’s perfect.
When you finally open your eyes, you feel much braver. Ready to do what he came here to do.
His cheeks are flushed. His lips are pink and slightly swollen. His pupils are dilated and he’s wearing the softest grin—like a warm sweater. 
“Please?” you whisper, and his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Where?” he asks.
“Bedroom.” It might sound like a demand, but you’ve never felt so submissive. “Please, Harry—”
He picks you up. Carries you down the hall and toward your bed. He’s been here before, seen it a hundred times when he and Rebecca would come over for movie nights or dinners. 
But it’s different now and you both know it. He treats your space with reverence. Treats you with reverence. Awe. You are…everything to him in this moment. He makes you the center of his world, the focus of his attention.
And you have to remind yourself not to fall in love with him.
He drops you onto the mattress with care but just a bit of roughness. Exactly the way you like.
He follows after you. Slots his body between your thighs and brings his lips back to yours. You kiss until you feel dizzy. It’s quick and eager and tantalizing. He moves to your neck while your fingers move for his shirt.  He nips at your throat and you fumble with the hem. And he only stops kissing you so you can slip the shirt over his head and toss it toward the floor.
You’ve seen his body before—saw it just today. But now it’s here, in your hands, in your bed, in your room. And it’s glorious. Tan, strong, firm. Covered in tattoos that make you want to drool and rippling with muscles you didn’t even know someone could have.
You want to gaze but he’s already back on your neck, sucking bruises below your ear. And then…his hand is on your thigh.
You’re tempted to freeze—to be reminded of how odd the situation—but you don’t allow yourself to succumb to the overthinking.  You enjoy the feeling of his fingers moving up toward your robe. You enjoy the way they play with the tie as if teasing you. And you enjoy the warmth of his palm as he whispers, “May I?”
You nod until you get a headache. Practically flinging the robe open for him. 
He’s gentle as he pulls it undone. Considerate as he pushes it back and reveals your naked body to him. 
And there you are. Bare before your best friend’s boyfriend and it’s…
It’s…
Not nearly as strange as it should be.
His expression softens like your nakedness hurts him. In the best way. He groans and he stares and he parts his lips as if dying to take you in his mouth.
And who are you to deny him?
You nod again, allowing him to do whatever he might like, and he’s grateful. So very grateful for you as he guides the robe away from your body, disposes of it, and dives in.
He kisses from your shoulder to your chest. From your chest to your tits. To the valley between and down your stomach. He is practiced, he is patient, he is beautiful. And he feels like heaven.
“Harry,” you nearly whimper, eyes falling shut as you settle back onto the bed.
He squeezes your hips so you know he heard you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just lay still for me, Kitten, okay?”
He’s telling you what to do. You listen. 
He pulls your legs apart and scoots back. He wants to taste you. You can see that he wants nothing more. But he stops to look up at you. Wanting permission. Wanting to hear you say that he’s allowed and that you want it, too.
“Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, go. It’s fine.”
He rubs his thumbs along your skin to soothe you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”
Anything, anything, anything.
“Want you to grab my hair,” he tells you. “Want you to pull it, yank it, whatever. Want you to show me what feels good. Yeah?”
“Okay,” you agree breathily. “Promise.”
He grins and it’s all teeth. He returns his kisses to you. He starts at your bent knee. He goes down your inner thigh. He travels across your hip.
And finally…finally.
He’s gentle with your clit at first. A few kisses, just to prepare you. Getting a feel for your body, letting you get a feel for his mouth. For his face between your legs.
You bring a shaky hand to his hair and card your fingers through, fulfilling your vow. His hair feels good against your palm. Like butter. You gather him in your fist and tug.
His lashes flutter in response. He hums again—louder. You can feel it against your pussy and it makes your toes curl.
His hands keep you from bucking up, but he seems pleased when you try. He likes that you feel good. He likes that he gets to use his power to keep you still. 
“Har…Harry,” you whimper, and he groans again. He likes the sound of his name in your mouth. “Shit—”
He slaps your hip. A warning. “Good girls don’t use bad language. Do they?”
No. You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “Please…”
He’s happy again. Moving his mouth down your cunt until he can taste the beginnings of your arousal beginning to gather. “You’re so good for me, Kitten. You know that? Being so well behaved.”
You love his praise. You always have. Winning his approval means the world, and now, in this moment, it means that much more. You want to make him happy. To please him. To do what he wants. 
You yank on his curls and he seems to melt between your thighs. He moves back to your clit and sucks. Flicks you with his tongue and basks in the sound of your whiny cries. 
“There you go,” he says, and it’s more to himself. “I’ve got you.”
You’re shaking. Overcome by this feeling and by the impending release. It’s really going to happen. Harry is going to make you cum, and you never thought you’d see the day.
He knows you’re close. Knows you can’t fight it and he doesn’t want you to. He steadies his technique. Goes harder, faster. Gives you everything you’re asking for. You are puddy in his hands. Clay for him to mold. You are whatever he wants you to be in this moment and you’re more than all right with that.
He brings a finger to your hole and gently slips it inside. The fullness of such a large digit makes your brain turn to mush and you whimper again as you yank on his hair. He’s pleased.
“That’s what you needed, hm?” He sinks to the knuckle and starts to pump. “Just needed my fingers, yeah?”
“Yes…yes.” He’s so good. So very good.
“I know,” he hums, and it’s almost condescending. He feels bad that you’re so easy. “Take whatever I’ll give you, won’t you?”
You will. He knows it. You know it. If all he did was look at you, you’d feel grateful to be under the warmth of his gaze.
“Tell me, Kitten,” he continues, dragging his tongue up the length of your cunt. From his finger to your clit. “Do the boys in your books do it like this?”
You don’t want to think about your books at a time like this. Not when you have him. Real and here. In your bed. Your clit in his mouth.
“Do they?” he pushes and adds a second finger. How does he expect you to speak? “Hm? Is this what you dream about? When you fuck yourself in this bed? You dream about someone tasting you? Burying their face in your sweet pussy?”
You whimper. You writhe. You cling to his curls and try not to disappear.
“Speak,” he murmurs, and slaps your inner thigh.
You whine again and pant, “Yes.”
“Yes, Sir,” he corrects you, and lifts his head. He’s glistening in you. He’s beautiful. “M’not your friend here, Kitten. I’m the one making you cum. You will remember that.”
And you will. Because he is better than your books. He is considerate, and he is good, and he is making you cum before you can stop yourself. 
Your back arches from the bed. Your chest caves in on itself. Your legs squeeze the sides of his head and he fucking loves it.
He releases your hips so he can grab onto your thighs and press them hard to his cheeks. He wants to suffocate in you. You want to let him.
“Harry—” you gasp. He slaps your leg. “Sir…I…”
You can’t say anything else. He knows. It’s okay. He rides you through. Takes every drop on his tongue. Swallows you down. Feeds on you. Indulges in you. 
Today you are his.
And still, he’s not through. He begins again. He knows you’re sensitive and he knows it won’t be long before you give him another.
He adds a third finger and begins to thrust inside your quivering cunt. He says, “How many times do they make their girls cum?”
You glance down. “What?”
“Your books. Your fantasies. Your dirty smut that gets you off. How many times do they make the girl cum?”
You think. You can’t think. “I…I don’t know—”
“You do,” he argues and nips at your pussy. “Because I bet you wish it was more. I bet you make yourself cum for every time they do. I bet you fuck yourself while you read and pretend that it’s you.”
He’s right. You hate that he’s right. You hate that it’s so obvious.
“How many?” he repeats. “Once? Twice? Do they give up after that? Are they as good as you want them to be?”
You can’t hear him through the pounding in your ear. The second one is close. You’re shaking, trembling, dying. It’s already unraveling. You’re too far gone.
He pumps you through your second and carries right on to your third. “Shame you never called me. Shame you never read your little books and thought to ask me for help. Should’ve known I would have.”
Your cheeks are growing warm again. You’re embarrassed and sensitive to the touch. 
He notices. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” he realizes aloud, and he sounds almost proud. “Thought about me when you touched yourself.”
You shake your head but it’s a lie. You both know it.
“You did,” he repeats, and he’s smirking. “Did you picture me when you read? Picture me in your dirty little taboo fantasy? D’you picture my cock? My hands? My mouth?”
You did, and you’re embarrassed, and he loves it.
“Did I make you cum?” he whispers, and slips a fourth finger inside. “Hm? Did I have you coming all over your pretty hand? All over your sheets? Or did you use a toy, baby?”
You squirm. You try to fight him, try to fight this orgasm, try to fight what he’s making you remember. But it’s useless. 
“How many times did I make you cum?” he nearly purrs, and it’s over. It’s all over. You are powerless to him, and you embrace it. “How many times did you cum for me while you were reading your naughty little books—”
You don’t hear the rest. You’re unraveling for the third time before he can find his answer. But that’s more than all right because this was the answer he really wanted, anyway. 
He strokes your skin as you come down. Then, he pulls his fingers out, takes them in his mouth, and swallows you. Waiting until you’ve caught your breath before he’s crawling back up your body and slipping his tongue against yours.
He kisses you, and you taste everything. Him, you, and five years of memories shared between you. Rebecca slowly starts to dissolve from the picture and now it’s just the two of you. In every flashback, every moment. Maybe it was always him and you.
You reach for his belt. You want his jeans off. You want your hands around his cock. You want to hold him, ride him, gag on him. You’re impatient and he’s amused and it feels as though time is moving far too slow.
“Easy,” he tuts, but he kisses you again. “M’gonna give you my cock, Kitten, just have to wait for me, yeah?”
You pout. He kisses it away. “Can’t wait, Sir. Need it.”
Sir makes him grin, and this seems to work in your favor. “You can’t, hm? Well, what if I wanna take my time?”
You groan and you whimper and you fling your arms around his neck to pull him close and plead with him. “Please,” you whisper, kissing along his neck, and his skin tastes divine. “Please fuck me, Sir. I need it. Might die.”
He chuckles, and the vibration of his chest makes your insides twitch. “I bet. S’been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Three years, and while you know sex isn’t necessary to survive…now that you’re here…you feel rather insatiable. 
Because it’s not the fact that you haven’t had sex in three years that’s making you anxious. It’s the fact that you haven’t had sex with him. And you need to. You need him to scratch this itch that only he can scratch. And you need him to do it now.
“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, and you want to cry. He’s so good. “Can I do that, Kitten? Can I make it better?”
You nod, and you’re dizzy, and you’re dripping onto your sheets below. You feel so empty without him.
He laughs again and it’s heaven. “Good girl. Take off my jeans, okay?”
You do, and you do it well. They’re off in under thirty-five seconds and on the floor, next to your robe and his shirt. Your clothes look good together. It makes you smile.
He nods at his boxers, the only thing left between you. “Take ‘em off.”
You do. You roll the dark band down his gorgeously strong thighs and help him slip out of them before they’re joining the collection on the ground.
He’s got a large tattoo on his left leg that’s just begging to be licked and muscles in his calves that make your pussy clench.  
You stare at him and you probably drool and he’s laughing again.
He slips his finger under your chin once more and lifts your head until your eyes meet. He is a meadow. Gentle and calm. “Do you want a taste, Kitten?”
More nodding, more drooling. He kneels and you scoot closer, grasping onto his thighs to brace yourself as you stare at him.
He’s hard, and big, and leaking in a way that makes your throat go dry. He is better than you wanted him to be and he is better than the books and he is real. 
You dip down and you allow your lips to graze his tip. He smiles and puts a hand on your head to guide you. Comfort you. Control you in just the right way.
You extend your tongue and drag it up the side. He tastes good. More so than you expected. It’s like candy, and you lick and lick until you needily begin to take him into your mouth. 
He squeezes your scalp lightly. Easy. You’re going fast and he wants to go slow. He wants you to enjoy yourself. 
But you are. How could you not? He’s heavy in your mouth and you never thought you’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock as much as you do his. Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe you really do get pleasure out of pleasing him.
You take more. As much as you can bear. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re tempted to gag but you don’t, not yet. You don’t want him to think you can’t take him. You want to be good. As good as he was for you.
He slips his fingers into your roots and tugs. “Baby,” he warns softly. “Don’t push yourself—”
You keep going. You groan around him and he curses at the feel of your throat. You go further. Until your eyes are screwing shut and your breathing becomes labored.
Suddenly, he’s yanking on you. Pulling you off as a string of saliva drips from his cock to your mouth.
“Hey,” he grunts, and he looks at you. You want to shrink. “I told you to go easy, yeah? You have nothing to prove to me, Kitten. This is not about doing something you think I need you to do. I want you to do it because you want to do it. It’s not a competition. I’m not gonna be disappointed if you can’t take much of me.”
You frown. “I know, but…I want to. I really do want to. I just…you’re big, Ha—Sir. You’re so big.”
You’re feeding his ego (but you’re also telling the truth) and he exhales a soft laugh. “I know,” he repeats. “But forcing yourself will only hurt. Besides, this is about you, yeah?”
Your expression falls. Another reminder that he’s only here as a service. To get you off and then get out. He won’t be spending the night, and he won’t be calling you tomorrow to set up the next time, and he won’t be promising that he’ll train your throat open to take his cock. 
You nod. You concede. Bring your hands to your lap and pull yourself away.
Now he’s frowning. He smooths his palm down the back of your neck and tugs you to him. He looks at you and he’s looking for what you’re really thinking. Something shifted. He wants to know what. Why.
“This is about you,” he says again, and you wish he’d stop. “Believe me, I’d be happy to have you gag on me, but that’s not what we’re doing tonight, okay? Not tonight.”
And it’s not a promise of next time. You know that. But not tonight implies something more open-ended than before and you finally smile. “Okay.”
He sweeps his thumb along your throat. “Can I fuck you now, baby?”
“God, yes,” you breathe, and nearly drag him on top of you. 
He smiles again and you feel whole. The dance continues. He kisses you and situates himself between your thighs, and you are so very ready. 
“Shit, wait, hold on,” he says, and you almost burst into tears. “I need to grab the condoms—”
“No,” you nearly shout, and his brow raises. “No, I…we’re both clean. And I’m on the pill. Why…why don’t we just…not? Maybe?”
It’s selfish, you know it’s selfish. But you want to feel him. You don’t want something keeping him from you and you want to know that he actually fucked you. 
You like condoms. You prefer condoms. But not now. Not with him. You have to know he really did this. You need to feel him in your pussy for years to come.
He looks at you. “You’re on the pill?” He doesn’t answer your question.
“Yeah. I take ‘em for cramps and regulation and stuff.” You wince. Talking about cramps is not sexy. “The point is…if you want…I mean, I want, but if you want…?”
He thinks about this. Brushes your hip with his thumb. Thinks. “I don’t mind, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” you exhale. “God, I’m sure. Honestly. As long as you are. And…and Rebecca. I don’t know if you guys have a rule…or anything.”
You wince again. You don’t want to bring up Rebecca, either. But you know you have to. You know she’s your friend, and she’s Harry’s partner, and this has to be asked. It has to be considered.
So, he considers it. “Most of the time we have a rule, yeah. For safety and peace of mind. But that’s when it’s other people. She doesn’t mind if we do or don’t. She said it’s up to me.”
“You talked about it?” 
“Yeah.” Of course they did. Honesty. “When I was grabbing the condoms. I asked if you had a preference, she said she didn’t think so. Said we could just go without if we wanted. As long as I got tested after.”
“Right.” You almost feel weird knowing they talked about you. But what did you expect? “And…do you want to?”
Another beat. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel you. I think we’ve taken all of the right steps and I feel comfortable going without. As long as you do.”
“I do,” you assure him again. “I really, really do.”
He smiles. “Good.” He drags his tip down your cunt, gathering your arousal. “Then I wanna start like this. Wanna see your face. Make sure you’re doing all right.”
You nod quickly.
 “And I wanna see you when you cum on my cock for the first time,” he whispers huskily before steadying himself above you.
You are giddy. He is everything. He is so much better than your books and he is lining himself up with you and he is big, and ready, and beautiful.
He kisses you again. “Deep breath, okay? Try to relax. Don’t want to hurt you.”
You do breathe. You do try to relax. You let your mind wander to a world where he does this to you every night. Where your pussy happily accepts him and knows him and molds to him.
He pushes in. You reel.
Still, he is good, and gentle, and kind. He kisses you more. He distracts you, even though he doesn’t need to. You pretend that he’s imagining a world with you, too.
He sinks in further, and life is perfect. Your nails claw at his back—at the many muscles that tense beneath your touch. Your leg hooks to his hip, your heel against his ass. You draw him in. You plead with him for more. You say his name, you moan, you shiver.
“Shh,” he coos, and he wraps his hand around your throat. He remembers what you like, and he squeezes gently. “Let me do this, don’t rush me.”
You whimper, “Sir,” and he kisses you again. You are addicted to his tongue.
He finally buries himself all the way, hips against yours, chests flush together. He’s heavy and he’s warm. Like a weighted blanket and you feel so safe. You’ve missed the feeling of another body on top of you. Of that connection and intimacy. That protection. It’s even better when it’s him.
You cling to him and ask every star in the sky not to take him from you. “Please move, Sir.”
He draws back. He begins to fuck you, and he’s so big. He stretches you, claims you. Owns you, truly. He sucks your tit into his mouth and you melt between his lips. He nips, and pulls, and groans. And you hate everyone he’s ever been with before. You wish you were his only. 
He starts going faster. But not too fast. He wants to make you anxious for it. He wants you to beg. Wants you to unravel yourself from need alone. And you’re so close to doing just that.
“Good girl,” he praises, and your heart cracks down the middle. “Taking me so well. Is this what you needed, Kitten? Needed someone to fuck this tight little pussy until you felt better?”
You nod and you whimper again. He’s fucking you back to life. What happens when he leaves?
You shake the thought free and focus on now. His body feels good against yours. His teeth are perfect on your throat. His curls are soft and his skin is tan and his cock is fucking magic.
He’s relentless. Thick. Splitting you open and drawing you in. Your tits bounce from the thrusts and your back arches from the bed and his face is delicious. 
He’s watching you closely, just like he said. He’s studying your reactions, your noises, your gasps for air and mercy. He wants to know he’s giving you what you wanted. He wants to know he’s doing it right.
And of course he is. He has to know that. He has to assume he’s better than the average man. You wonder if he learned this from Rebecca or someone else. You wonder what would happen if you were his. Could you be okay with him sleeping with other people? Could you accept that he still wants you? 
You close your eyes and scrunch your nose. You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself imagine a world you can’t have. You aren’t being present; you aren’t enjoying what you’re being given now. 
Suddenly, his hand is back on your throat. He’s squeezing, but pointedly. Asking for your attention.
“Hey,” he murmurs, just as stern as before. You look up. “What is this? What is this face for, what’s wrong?”
You blink and then realize your expression is still bunched. You relax. “Nothing, sorry.”
“Hey.” Firm. Unrelenting. He stops thrusting and you want to die.  “Baby, you can’t do that. I told you I need communication, I need honesty. If I’m hurting you, you have to tell me—”
“No,” you insist quickly. You take hold of his shoulders and then his hips as though to get him to continue. “No, that’s not it. I promise. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t move. “Then what was the face for? What’s wrong?”
You huff. Sigh. Squeeze his waist. “Nothing, I promise. I was just…thinking about something I shouldn’t. And I wanted to stop.”
“Stop fucking? Or stop thinking?”
“Thinking. I wanted to be here. With you.”
He relaxes now and you feel his cock twitch. “Kitten, I want you here with me, too. If you’re not, we can stop for a while—”
“No,” you groan. You feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum. “No, I swear. I am here. I am. And if you stop, then I won’t be, and it might kill me.”
He sighs now. It’s heavy. “Nobody else exists outside of this room except you and me, yeah? Just us.”
You melt. “Yeah…”
He kisses you. “I want you here with me, baby,” he exhales, and it’s like he’s breathing the sentiment into your lungs. “I need you here. With me. On my cock. Don’t want you to think about anybody else. It’s just us.”
You nod again, and you claw at him, and you beg him to keep going. He does. It fixes everything.
When your fourth hits you, you see the stars. Even if they aren’t in your favor, they are bright, and warm, and they carry you through to the other side.
And once you’ve caught your breath, Harry pulls out. 
You’re tempted to wither, to cry, to beg him to stay but he’s already flipping you around onto your stomach and driving himself back in.
Now you understand. And you’re ecstatic. He’s rough. Pulling your hair, forcing your cheek to the bed, slapping his palm against your ass.
“Give me another,” he demands, and he sounds angry, but he’s not. He’s ready. “Just like you would for your little book boys. You fucking cum for me, right now. Let me feel you. Let me cum with you.”
He slams into you and it’s so full. You could cum for a lifetime and still never feel finished.
He spanks you again. Grips your hair. Forces your nose into the duvet until it’s hard to breathe. It’s rough. Deep. And still…he’s caring for you. You know he’s making sure he isn’t pushing too far. Just enough. You love it.
“What a sweet little pussy,” he seethes, but it’s thick with lust. “Can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from me for five years. All this time and you were right here.”
You’re glad he can’t see you now. He might be afraid of how happy that sentence makes you.
“S’all I’m gonna think about,” he says. “Tasting you. Fucking you. Feeling you. Gonna dream of this pretty pussy every goddamn night.”
You moan. You hope he does. Hope he dreams of it when he’s lying next to her. 
No. You scrunch your nose. You reject it. You ignore it.
He spanks you. Kneads your ass in his hand, then spanks you again. “Gotta promise me something, Kitten. Yeah? Gotta promise me that you’re gonna think of me, too.”
And you are. Of course you are. You always do. “Yes…yes, Sir. I promise.”
Another slap and squeeze to your scalp. “Good fucking girl. Now cum. Fucking cum for me, baby.”
You want to. But not before he does. You need to feel him, too, and you hold off as best you can until you feel him twitch.
“Kitten,” he says, and you’re ready. “Want you to make me another promise, yeah? Want you to take my cum…and keep it. Keep it in your little pussy, even after I leave. Okay?”
You nod quickly. You will. Of course you will. God, how could he think you wouldn’t?
Your promise tips him over, and he cums, and he’s loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
You wish you could see him. It’s so cruel that you can’t, and you try to glance back to catch even a glimpse. You see his brows scrunch together, see his mouth drop open, see his cheeks flush from the force.
And seeing him tips you over. You cum together, a mess of moans, and pants, and nicknames. Sweaty bodies connecting as he collapses on top of you, further burying you into the mattress. And it’s so hot and you can’t breathe, but you have never felt more alive. This moment is infinite. He is infinite, and you are infinite with him.
“Shit,” he says, and you have to agree. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking good. Can’t believe you’ve kept that from me.”
It’s the second time he’s said it. You wonder if he realizes. “I didn’t do anything, this was all you.”
He snorts. “Kitten, I had nothing to do with how fucking good that was. Believe me. You…are fucking perfect. Every cute little flutter of your cunt. Your tits. Those big eyes…”
The room falls silent. You imagine he wants to turn you around and see you, but he doesn’t. He’s keeping himself inside you for as long as he can. 
“Thank you,” you whisper, and the sentiment doesn’t feel strong enough. “For…for doing that, I mean. And…for not making it weird. I know I was probably kind of…rusty and nervous, and I just—”
“No.” He shakes his head. Squeezes your hip. Kisses your bare back until you fall silent. “You are perfect. Okay? That was perfect. I really, really enjoyed it.”
You smile. You are happy and miserable all in the same moment. “Me, too.”
You want to ask if you’ll be doing it again. You want to pretend that he’s not gonna leave you and go back to her. That he’s not Rebecca’s Harry or Just Harry.
That he’s Your Harry.
But all good things must come to an end. He will leave. And you will let him.
“Now what?” you dare to ask.
A small beat. “We don’t have to talk about it after I leave…if that’s what you still want,” he says next, and your chest feels heavy. “I just want to make sure you’re all right before I do. That you pee, and you drink your water, and you take it easy. I know I went kind of hard on you.”
“But it was good,” you tell him, and you grin at the memory. It feels so far away. “Really good. Everything I wanted.”
“Yeah?” He kisses you more. The space between your shoulders. Your neck. Your cheek. “Any notes?”
You laugh. “No notes. God, no. You’re like a sex god.”
“Better than your books?”
“So much fucking better.”
“Hm.” More kisses. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll get a big head.”
“You already have one,” you attempt to tease, and he laughs, too. “Both of them.”
The room fills with giggles until you both fall silent again. He doesn’t leave. You don’t make him.
“Do we…tell Rebecca?” you ask. “Like…the details and things?”
“Only if you want to.” He stops kissing you now but rests his cheek on your head. “She doesn’t expect us to, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
You nod. You like Rebecca. You can’t imagine you’d be so relaxed if you were in her position. “And this…works for you guys? The open relationship?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. Nods. “We have a lot of love and trust and I think that’s why. It’s what we both want.”
You resist the urge to scrunch your nose. You’re happy for him. For both of them, you are. This really is what’s best and you’re so glad they have each other. And you’re glad that they’re both willing to explore it with you and still keep you in their lives.
“Is it just sex?” you ask next, despite your better judgment. “Or…like, what if you wanted to date someone else? Or is that not what it means?”
“We can date around if we want. We haven’t in a while, just because we can’t seem to find people we like enough to keep around.” He smirks. “But we could. It’s not as rigid as it sounds.”
He finally pulls out and you want to cry. You feel cold and empty.
However, he’s quick to scoop the dribbling cum from your pussy and push it back in. Just for a little while longer. 
You close your legs and smile. “I don’t think it’s rigid as long as it’s what you want.”
He smiles back. “It is.”
You shift now. You feel nervous again. “So…then, I guess by the rules and things…it wouldn’t be…totally weird to see if you wanted to do it again? Not that we have to—we could, I mean. Or not, if you don’t want. Or maybe I should ask her. Or you can. Or…actually, it’s dumb, never mind. I don’t know why I thought—”
He grabs your chin. Presses his thumb to your lips to quiet you. “Kitten, breathe.”
You do.
“We can do it again,” he says, and you have never felt so happy. You feel as though you were just set on fire. Your skin is tingling, and your insides are twisting, and your pussy is clenching. “We don’t have to ask permission. We’re adults. We can do whatever we’d like. That’s the point of an open relationship.”
You nod. You want to kiss him. “Okay. Are you…I mean, do you want to? We don’t have to just because I do, honestly. I just…we both liked it, so I thought maybe we’d want to. Unless it wasn’t really that good for you, which I would understand—”
“Kitten.”
You stop. You breathe.
He chuckles. “I would love to fuck you again. And again. And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”
You’re practically shaking. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He grins. He can tell how giddy you are. “What are you doing next Friday?”
“I am doing whatever you want me to.”
The expression that splits his face is like sunshine. He loves this answer, and he loves your pussy, and perhaps one day…he’ll love you, too.
“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, and surges forward to kiss you.
And maybe…this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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Next Part:
~ Insatiable You*
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs
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starbittzzy · 1 year ago
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Hair brushing chronicles ft Ivy and Rebecca
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I know it seems like she gave her an option but she didn't.
Sorry this is really messy and rushed! I just had to get this idea out of my head lmfao
Maybe ill do a part 2? If you guys want one!
Ill def draw Rebecca interacting with more characters as well! 🩷
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lipglossanon · 2 months ago
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Deed I Do
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Real Dad Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x Daughter Puppy!reader (one shot)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, age gap (Leon is late 40’s and reader is late 20’s), hybrids, jealous Leon, short and sweet, dirty talk, grinding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, knotting, creampie
ETA: this was a commission but I’m a dumbass 😭
Kofi commish by @bumpkin-batch
Word count: 1999
title from Deed I Do by Ruth Etting
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Leon stretches, bones and joints popping loudly. 
“Looking forward to that retirement, I’ll bet,” Jill jokes as she passes by him to sit at the desk behind Chris’. 
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes and stands up from his desk chair. 
He usually works away from Chris’ desk, out on patrol alongside his owner, but after turning 40, they kept him pushing paper and training new pups. This new batch coming in has him excited, although he’d never admit it. It’s the very first litter he sired back when he was in the breeding program decades ago.
“Aww, aren’t they cute!” Rebecca coos as Chris brings in the new lineup of would-be police dogs.
Leon would roll his eyes, but he’s too busy cataloging each of the new pups. There are seven in all—five boys and two girls. Aside from the girl on the end, they’re all stoic and calm. She, on the other hand, keeps letting her emotions get the best of her—tail wagging happily before remembering to stay still. 
Leon has a really good feeling she won’t be cut out for police work. It sends a little pang of worry through his chest, but he squashes it down in favor of watching them. As they’re put through their paces, Leon keeps an eye out on the girl. Just to make sure she does what she’s told. 
Weeks fly by in this new routine. A few of the recruits are turning out not to be fit for police work. The girl is definitely too friendly and useless at trying to apprehend someone breaking the law. Another pup, a boy, is too hyper. He’s already broken through three harnesses and accidentally bit an officer. 
But still, five out of seven new police dogs isn’t anything to sneeze at; Leon’s proud the majority have what it takes, like himself. The boy’s already been adopted by Barry. His two daughters have been begging for a hybrid to play with after school, and with his energy, he’ll be a perfect fit. The girl, on the other hand, is much too sweet and soft. Leon’s been keeping an ear out for what they’re going to do with her. 
He’s taken a liking to the pup; she’s earnest and kind, something he doesn’t get to see every day. She’s started to hang around Chris’ desk with him when the recruits have free time. It could explain why Chris suddenly springs it on him that he’s taking her home at the end of the week. 
“She’s just not going to fit in here,” the dark haired man gestures to the empty office, “and I don’t want her going to a shelter to sit for god knows how long. You two get along, and this way you won’t be home alone when you retire next month.”
Leon scoffs, but secretly he’s extremely pleased about the new situation. His own little girl is getting to stay with him. He can teach her all the things she wouldn’t learn here, especially with him being gone. And she’s so sweet. He’s happy he can spend this time with her and not have to worry about the job. 
Friday rolls around, and you’re a ball of joy. Leon even finds himself smiling at your excited chattering while he leads you out to Chris’ vehicle. You grow quiet on the drive to your new home, but your tail wagging assures Leon that you’re happy. Chris helps you get settled into your new room, right next to Leon, and gives you a quick tour of the house as the dogman follows behind.
There are a few bumps in dealing with a new pup in his space, but Leon wouldn’t change it for anything. He’s looking forward to retirement just that much more. In the meantime, he shows you the ropes. Cuddling, playing, annoying Chris—you guys do it all together. You groom each other too, something Leon finds himself seeking out more and more. Lately, you’ve been smelling downright edible. 
He’s had to excuse himself from your cuddling before he gets too hard to hide it. You’ve also been extra clingy lately, practically gluing yourself to him at every chance you get. Leon calls it quits midweek, and as soon as Chris opens the front door, you’re pressed all along Leon’s side with a wide smile. 
“Congratulations!” You kiss his cheek, and he gets a whiff of something sweet and tart, making his mouth water. 
You usher him into the kitchen and throw out your hands, “Ta-da! I made your favorite!”
Grinning, he ruffles your ears, “Thanks, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip, ducking your head out of shyness, “Thanks, dad. I hope you like it.”
Picking up the fork, Leon takes a bite of the lemon cake. Sweet.. tangy.. soft.. moist. The errant thought that this is what your cunt might be like makes his eyes flutter closed with a groan. 
“It’s good?” Your eyes peer at him, ears perking up. 
“Delicious,” he pats your head, and your tail whips back and forth.
“Chris, you have to try some!” You call out, heading back into the living room. 
Leon takes a few more bites, mouth salivating at the taste. He needs to get his shit together. You bring Chris into the kitchen with you, and Leon watches him shower you with praise over the dessert. You become more and more flustered, and an ugly feeling of jealousy rears its head in his chest. 
“You okay?” 
With a start, Leon blinks, realizing a low growl has been building up in his chest. 
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about something,” he clears his throat. “Well, I’m beat, so I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”
“Oh, okay,” your ears droop, and it makes his heart hurt. 
“Did you need me?”
You pick at your nails, “Could we watch a movie together? I’m feeling kinda under the weather.”
Warm satisfaction suffuses him over your asking him and not Chris, “Sure, just meet me in my room once I finish showering.”
“Okay!” You smile brightly and hurry off to your room.
“I’m glad you guys are getting along,” Chris chuckles before stuffing another bite of cake into his mouth. 
“Don’t eat all of it,” Leon points to the dessert, “that’s technically for me.”
“It’s one slice,” Chris rolls his eyes. 
Leon’s nose twitches, and he waves his owner off, heading to the bathroom. After showering, Leon wraps his lower waist with a towel before realizing he didn’t bring a change of clothes. It’s a habit he’ll have to learn to break since you’ve moved in. Sighing to himself, he makes his way to his room, hoping you haven’t come in just yet. 
His hopes are dashed when he sees your wide-eyed look as you lay in bed. His sheets are gonna smell like you, and it makes his cock twitch. Pulling in a deep breath to calm himself, he nearly chokes as your sweet scent floods his nose. He knows he’s looking at you a little too heatedly.
“Sorry, I’ll get dressed.” He finally breaks eye contact and heads to his dresser. 
He throws on an old tee and slips on a pair of sweats under the towel before tossing it in the hamper. You scooch over to make room for him, and as soon as he’s lying back, you’re practically clambering on top of him. You throw one thigh over his legs, the heat of your cunt a hot brand against his leg. Burying your face against his chest, you nuzzle and scent your way up to his neck. 
“Dad,” you whine, “I feel sick.”
“Sick how?” He murmurs, trying to clear the fog in his brain as you subtly grind against him. “Have you been taking your meds?”
You shake your head no, pressing your nose against the pulse in his neck. 
“I ran out. Chris is s’posed to pick them up tomorrow,” you mumble, lips brushing against his skin and raising the hair on his neck. 
“Oh, baby,” he croons, cock chubbing in his sweats. “It’s heat sickness, my sweet pup.”
No wonder you’ve smelled so good lately. He grips your hips and helps you straddle his lap. 
“Take these off,” he snaps the band of your shorts, “gonna make my sweet girl feel better.”
Whimpering, you quickly slip off all your clothes until you’re sitting completely naked on his thighs. He pushes his sweats down just enough to free his hardening cock. 
Your tail thumps against his legs. “Smell so good, dad.”
“So do you, baby,” he helps you sit your chubby pussy on his cock, pressing the thick length against his abs. “Just rub against me.”
Nodding your head, you brace your hands on his forearms as they grip your hips. Whining, your pussy lips part around his cock, and you slowly rut against him, dragging your slick all along his fat dick. 
“That’s it, doing so good giving daddy a pussy job,” he groans, jerking you back and forth as you frot against him. 
Whining, you hump down against his cock, precum and slick smearing across your cunt until there’s a sticky mess between you both. Leon grunts, feeling his knot starting to form at the base of his dick. 
“Fuck, gonna make daddy pop his knot, baby,” he drops his head back as you moan loudly. 
“Want it, please dad, my pussy feels so empty,” you pull away, shiny strings of slick clinging to his cock. 
“Shh, shh,” he runs his palms up your thighs before bringing one hand back down to grip his cock. “I’ll give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, biting your lip when Leon slaps his cock against your pudgy clit. 
He uses his thumb to press the head down to guide it into your drooling hole. You both pant and sigh as you slowly sink your cunt down until you're flush with your dad’s hips. Leon’s eyes nearly cross from how tight you are, walls soft and wet as they squeeze his cock.
“So good, fuck, gonna knot you, sweetheart, knot this sweet little pussy,” he growls out, pulling out to shove you down onto the mattress. 
He manhandles you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up before fucking his cock back into you, bottoming out in your squelching heat. He sees you bite down on the pillow to muffle the cry that slips from your mouth. Your pussy flutters and grips his cock tightly, sucking him in until the tip kisses your cervix. Growling low, he roughly pumps his hips, slipping his cock in and out of your perfect pussy. 
“You’re perfect, fucking meant for me,” he leans forward to bite and kiss your neck, “fat pussy a perfect fit for my cock.”
“Dad, dad, feels so good,” you whimper brokenly, “want your knot, want your pups, daddy.”  
“Fuck,” he snarls against your ear, cock pistoning deeper into your greedy hole. “Cum for me, pup, and I’ll knot your wet pussy.”
He reaches underneath you to circle and pinch your swollen clit. You thrash and buck against him, mewling and gasping as he works you closer to your orgasm. His knot catches at your hole, and as soon as your back arches, your pussy cumming around his cock, he shoves his knot past your clenching hole and locks you together. 
“Dad!” You cry out, voice muffled from where you’re pressed into the sheets.
“Ohhh,” he lazily humps your ass, rutting his cock and knot deeper into your cunt, “so good, baby. You did so well for daddy.”
You hum happily, and he nuzzles against your neck, laying you both on your sides so you can rest comfortably.
“I’ll fill you up again later to keep you from getting sick,” he murmurs in your ear and groans when your pussy milks and pulses around his cock. 
“Thanks, dad.”
He smiles and presses a kiss on your hair. He really does have a sweet pup.
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lewisvinga · 9 months ago
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who is she ? | george russell x fem! reader x carmen montero mundt
summary; when a williams investor catches the attention from the grids ultimate old money couple.
fc; jarinpat
warnings; ?
word count: 540
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri
note; requested ! my requests are closed !
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and others !
williamsracing: introducing our new investor for 2024! welcome y/n l/n to the williams family !
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: so so so happy to be part of the williams family 💙💙
username: OMG Y/N???
username: who is she and how is she so rich?
username: y/n l/n! she comes from a rich family! like hellaaaaaa old money rich but she’s ceo of a fashion company
username: she’s an icon tbh
username: AHHH
alex_albon: y/n slay 💅
logansargeant: y/n slayy💅💅
yourusername: alex and logan slay💅
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
“Who is she?” Carmen’s soft voice caused Francisca to look at her with furrowed-up eyebrows. The two were in a circle with Lily, Alexandra, Rebecca, and Kelly. All of their attention went straight to the girl Carmen was staring at.
Her wide-leg beige pants paired with a white off-the-shoulder blouse and her black Kelly belt caught the attention of the Spanish girl. The mystery girl held a black crocodile Birkin in her hands with her wrist adorned with a serpent watch and diamond-encrusted Cartier and Van Cleef bracelets. Everything about her screamed wealth.
“That’s Y/n L/n, Williams's new investor.” Alex's loud voice interrupted their thoughts as he and the other drivers walked up to the group of girls.
George was immediately by Carmen’s side, both of their eyes stuck on Y/n as she seemed to be on a phone call.
“Why’re you staring like that.” Pierre teased the Mercedes driver when he noticed his and his girlfriend's stare.
Alex turns and sees that Y/n has just hung up on the call. “Y/n! C’mere!” He called out, catching her attention.
Carmen’s eyes widened as both she and George immediately stood straighter. A sudden nervousness sprung in both of them as they saw Y/n smile and walk towards them, her heels clicking with each step.
“Alex, Hey!” She exclaimed with a smile, fixing her blown-out hair as she stood beside the Thai driver.
“Everyone meet Y/n, y/n meet everyone!”
The group immediately erupted into chatter, making Y/n feel comfortable and like she had known them for years. However, she felt 2 pairs of eyes on her.
She had first noticed the couple when she first arrived in the paddock. She saw them by the Mercedes. Their style had caught her attention. Their ‘old money’ style that she had seen trending on social media which was her own style as well.
Carmen’s raspy laugh and George’s cheeky smiles caught her attention before she had to get her eyes off them due to some media duties with Williams.
She didn’t realize she had also caught their attention until she felt their eyes on her as Max was ‘maxplaining’ something.
Y/n glances up and is met with both of their eyes. Her lips curled into a smile as she softly chuckled. Fortunately, since the three were standing off to the side, she leaned towards them and whispered, “I really like your watches.”
George glanced down at the silver and teal Rolex on his wrist that matched the one on Carmen’s. “Well, I-we like your everything.” He blurted out with a smile. The Spanish girl couldn’t help but snort at her boyfriend’s sudden boldness.
Y/n let out a shy giggle, glancing down at her black and tan Chanel Mary Jane’s. “Well, aren’t you both nice?” She quietly said as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Are you busy later?” Carmen asked with a hint of nervousness making her accent stronger.
“Not tonight, no.”
“How about dinner? Just the three of us, perhaps?” George responded with a hopeful smile.
Y/n kept looking between the two before her lips curled into a matching smile. “Tonight. 8. I’ll be waiting.” She says before turning around. She says a quick goodbye to the group leaving Carmen and George starstruck.
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luveline · 1 year ago
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If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.
thank u for ur request! fem!reader
Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white. 
"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?" 
Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says. 
Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?" 
"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern. 
Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through. 
"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?" 
"Spencer!" 
Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?" 
"I miss you so much." 
Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?" 
Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks. 
"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!" 
"I can tell." 
"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin. 
Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation. 
"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.
Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated. 
He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic." 
"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.
"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?" 
"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too." 
"She's making toast or something." 
"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas." 
"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear." 
Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.
"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache." 
"It makes me miss you," you whine. 
He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?" 
"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to." 
"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's." 
"Exactly!" 
You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of. 
A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks. 
Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great." 
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hecksupremechips · 8 months ago
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Rebecca gales has bpd she told me herself
#rebecca gales#the letter#the letter visual novel#listen im new here im not exactly a knowledgeable cookie here about bpd but the more i learn the more im like. inch resting#cuz for starters its like idk if it all applies to me but i find a lot of it very relatable#but when i think about rebecca i think it definitely applies and makes a lot of sense just like the way she feels emotions#shes got so much complex feelings about the people she loves shes very caring and loving#to the point where they feel its too much to handle alsjks like i love how cute she is with isabella when shes worried#she squishes belles face to check for injuries and she pulls isabella into her lap and pets her hair and sings for her#and always gets her food and worries herself into the ground to make sure isabella takes care of herself#and then with ashton hes definitely her favorite person she sees him like a prince charming and remembers everything about their#relationship like her way of showing love is definitely by remembering things and paying attention to how people feel and what they want#and then zach even though they arent as close she still helped him with his movie and she defends him when his movie gets hate#like in such an angry way he tries to brush it off but shes like NO NOBODY GETS TO TALK TO YOU LIKE THAT#and same when luke is shitty to him and tries to steal his camera rebecca lets that guy have it#and with luke even though she does hate him shes the only character who makes him see the good in himself#and she lets him know that hes fully capable of changing and being a good father and person#shes just so loving but at the same time so easily has a split where she cant stand anyone either#she thinks isabella is obnoxiously immature and is jealous as fuck of her and she is very quick to fight with ash#because he just doesnt show his love for her like she does for him and thats just such a problem like#that feeling that youll always love someone way more than anyone will ever love you and it makes her really upset#and like sometimes her feelings just get bitter so quick and at inappropriate times like when shes mad at isabella while shes fucking#in a literal coma because ashton is in love with her and not rebecca and shes just so like wrapped up in her own feelings there that she#completely disregards the entire situation and ashtons grief because she cant think about anything else she just cant help it#so yeah i think its just the way she feels emotions very strongly and switches between them very quickly that makes me think hm maybe#something is going on here 🤨 and i just love it i love her i love how shes just a character whos just like#got all these complicated feelings but shes still loved and gets to slay penis and simply exist as a complex person
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