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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern. “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #ex-husband!bucky barnes #divorced!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluf #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fanfics #my stories

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coff33andb00ks · 4 months ago

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Hazy Days - LN

summary: summer fling, don't mean a thing pairing: lando norris x divorced!reader word count: 3.6k warnings: non-explicit smut (mdni), older woman a.n.: fuck quadrant's summer scope vids song: summer nights from Grease

You're doing it again. It's been over a year now and you're still rubbing your ring finger with your thumb. You're not as quite as surprised when you don't feel the rings, and when you look down you're relieved to see that the pale patch of skin has disappeared. I've got to buy a ring, you think. Because, despite everything, you still feel weird without a ring on that finger.

You give your head a shake. The marriage is over. It was over before it officially began, but the divorce has been finalized for almost a month. The settlement is in your account – it's how you're paying for this spontaneous trip.

You're no longer a married woman. A terrifying thought, even now, when your entire identity for nearly 10 years was wife. And now…

Now you don't know what you are.

So you packed a bag, bought a plane ticket on a whim, and now you're at some seaside hotel in the south of France. You're looking out at the people on the beach, and further out at the yachts dotting the Mediterranean.

A place you've always wanted to visit and now you're frozen in the hotel room, scared to death that you won't enjoy it. Like a decadent dessert you've thought about all day that tastes like an old candy bar when you finally get a bite. Like the new Louboutin pumps you'd wanted for your birthday two years ago that had pinched your toes and you haven't worn since.

You've built this up in your head and now you're afraid it won't live up to your expectations.

Babes, enjoy it. This is gonna be so healing for you.

Your best friend's words ring in your mind and you reach for the phone to call her for more reassurance, then remember the time difference. She loves you, but she won't appreciate a phone call this early unless it's an emergency.

"God, get over it. You're not the only newly divorced woman in the world," you mutter to yourself, turning away from the window to finish dressing. You want to do some exploring, get plenty of photos to share, maybe find a few souvenirs.

Your thumb slides over your ring finger as you exit the hotel a little while later and you sigh, turning back to ask the concierge of a nice jewelry store. When you tell him you're interested in purchasing a ring, he knows the perfect place and soon you're on your way, strolling along the winding streets.

The afternoon sun is hot and you breathe a sigh of relief once you step into the shop. The interior or hushed and you're aware of the clerks' eyes all moving to you. A couple young men at the counter are chatting and laughing, not paying attention to you at all, and you venture further into the shop.

The men are looking at bracelets, and a smartly dressed clerk is more than happy to show you the rings, leading you to a low counter and inviting you to sit in the cushioned chair.

"Oh… No, not anything like a wedding or engagement ring," you say as a tray of sparkling diamond rings is brought out. "I… I recently got divorced and I need something to replace my rings. Something that looks nothing like a wedding ring?"

From behind you, you can hear the two men murmuring, their English accents oddly comforting after three days of hearing only French voices. You finally narrow the selection down to two and are trying to decide when movement out the corner of your eye snags your attention.

It's one of the men, peering at necklaces. You steal a glance at him – handsome, well dressed, a head of dark curls – and look back at the rings when he turns his head, embarrassed to be caught looking.

You're focusing on the rings, trying them on and testing out how they feel against your thumb, when he speaks.

"I think the other one looks better."

Jerking your head up, you find yourself looking into a pair of brilliant green eyes.

It's so fucking unfair that his lashes are so pretty.

"Do you?" you ask, looking back at the rings.

"Yeah – unless you want something flashy?"

He's moved close enough you can smell his cologne.

He even smells divine. So fucking unfair.

You switched rings and nodded. "Flashy isn't really me… I'll take this one," you tell the clerk.

The man smiles. "Getting used to a ring?"

"Ah… No," you chuckle. "Can't get used to not having one."

His smile dies and a look of panic flashes over his face. "Um… Sorry?"

You almost laugh. Giving your head a shake, you watch the clerk wrap the ring and wait for her to return. "Don't be."

"Oh," he murmured, smile returning and sliding into a grin. "Congratulations, then."

This time you do laugh. "Thanks."

He gives you a look as the clerk returns, and before you can reach for your wallet he's already handing over his card. You open your mouth to protest but he tips his head. "A congratulations gift," he insists.

His friend approaches, giving you a friendly nod. "What are we congratulating?"

You smile weakly. "The end of my marriage."

"Divorce?" he asks. When you nod, he smirks. "The best thing about marriage, honestly."

"Max."

"What am I supposed to say?" Max protests, holding up his hands.

The first man groans. "You're such a – cheers," he says when the clerk brings his card back. "Let's go before you embarrass me even more."

You're smiling at their banter as you thank the clerk for her assistance. When you stand to make your way out, he's waiting near the door.

"Buy you a drink?" he offers as he opens the door for you.

His name is Lando. Max – pain in my ass – is obviously his best friend and doesn't join you for drinks as he's got to get packed up to leave. When you suggested Lando spend time with him before he goes home, Lando waved it off.

"He lives in England but I see him all the time."

Lando, it turns out, does not live in England. He looks almost embarrassed when you ask where he lives, and when he finally mutters that he lives in Monaco your eyes widen. Surely he's too young to be that well off?

Trust fund, probably. Now you don't feel so bad for his paying for the ring.

"That must be… Interesting," you say, taking a sip of your drink. He's brought you to a chic bar at the beach, and you're sitting on the upper terrace, the slowly sinking sun casting a golden glow over the water.

"I don't really get much time there." He fiddles with the stirrer in his drink. "I'm gone a lot."

Interest piqued, you set your glass down. "Oh?" Maybe he's a model, even if he is a little on the short side. Not that he's that short – he's definitely taller than you. "What do you do?"

"I drive cars." He ducks his head briefly. "Racecars."

"Really? I'm not… I'm a dumb American, the only racing I really know is the Indy 500?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's IndyCar."

You listen, fascinated, as he tells you about formula one, which you have heard about but it's not in your orbit. He seems both relieved and amused at the fact you're not into sports, and you can feel him relax as he laughs when you tell him you only watch the Super Bowl every year so you can eat a ton of junk food.

A drink turns into a few, and he's so nice to listen to, so easy to talk to. When he suggests dinner, you hesitate. You don't want to be that woman, newly divorced and falling into bed with the first man that looks at you. Especially one so young—

"How old are you?" you blurt.

It obviously surprises him and, though he was halfway out of his seat he sank back down. "How old are you?"

You refuse to play coy, to fish for compliments like you're desperate. "I'm thirty."

His eyebrows lift. "Twenty-four."

So not that young. More like… younger.

Lando gives you a smile. "Does that cancel dinner?"

You look into his eyes for a long moment then glance out at the view. There's an obvious fork in the road in front of you. One leads to something with this handsome racecar driver, and you have a feeling it's going to be more than dinner. The other leads to the rest of your solo vacation, with the cloud of what could be lingering. Looking at him again, you slowly breathe in.

Expensive cologne. Salt air.

"I'd love dinner," you say, and his smile rivals the setting sun.

You'll never be able to describe the meal you ate. Lando makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything but him. Not in a demanding way. He's just… Magnetic. He tells you stories about his career, about embarrassing moments and highs and lows and talks about his other ventures. How does he have time to sleep? He talks glowingly about Max and has you giggling into your wine over a story of the two of them getting into trouble that left Lando locked out of his parents' home. When he apologizes for talking so much you almost beg him to not stop. But he asks about you, and you can't help thinking he seems genuinely interested.

"My life isn't half as interesting as yours," you say with a shake of your head.

"I don't know… You're divorced, halfway around the world, having dinner with a strange guy. Seems interesting to me," he murmurs.

"Oh, it's a tale as old as time. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love and gives up everything… Girl becomes a woman, boy becomes a toad."

Lando winced. "No kissing to turn him into a prince?"

"He'd have to want the kiss for that to happen."

"What a fucking idiot," Lando says.

You tilt your head to the side. "For being a toad?"

"For not wanting your kiss."

You set your glass down with a surprised gulp. About to call him out for feeding you a line, you pause, seeing the glimmer in his eyes. Without thinking you lick your lips and see his gaze dip down briefly. You don't know what to say or how to react so you sit there, unable to refrain from thinking about how a kiss from Lando would feel.

"His loss." Lando's voice was barely above a murmur. Then, shockingly, his cheeks darken and his tongue darts over his lips. He looks down at his plate and you can hear his sigh before he looks up, his expression serious. "You gave up everything?"

"A slight exaggeration, really." You shrug, picking at your food. "I had dreams that I put on hold to help him achieve his."

"I've never been married. But, like…" He sighs, setting his fork down. "That doesn't seem fair?"

"Life isn't—"

"I know, but marriage isn't life is it?" His face screws up at that but he forges ahead. "Isn't the whole point of it to support and help each other achieve their dreams?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "I thought it was. He thought different."

"What dreams did you put on hold?" he asks after a moment.

"I wanted to get published." You look down at your half-eaten food. "When I was a kid, I loved reading and making up stories… I was studying for my degree in English – I planned to teach writing while working on my novels, because it's hard to make money doing it at first, and… Now it's too late."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have to go back to school and—"

"Yeah? Would you have to start over completely?"

"No." You can't remember how many credit hours you have left, but it would only take a phone call or an email to find out. "I wasn't too far from my degree."

"Then what's stopping you?" he challenged softly.

You don't have an answer. Nothing but the fear of failing, and you don't know him well enough to admit that.

"I don't read." He winces a bit at the admission. "Dyslexic, yeah? It's a miracle I finished school. But anyway. You write a novel and I promise to read it."

A smile pulls at your lips. "You'd do that for me? Someone you don't even know?"

"Of course." He grins. "I believe in supporting the arts."

He drives you back to the hotel in his sleek sportscar and for once you understand the allure of a purring engine and soft leather seats. There's no impending pressure when he offers to see you to your room, only the heat of his hand at the small of your back and the enticing scent of his cologne.

At your door, he hesitates. "Can I kiss you?"

Has anyone ever asked your consent for a kiss? You don't think so and the realization makes you sad, but you push that away because you've wanted him to kiss you since halfway through dinner.

His lips are a lighted match to kindling. The heat and desire are immediate and you're leaning into him, frightened by the strength of your want but craving more. It's been an embarrassingly long time since you've felt this way and you're aware that it may be even longer before you feel it again. So when the door finally clicks open you don't hesitate to step inside, pausing and reluctantly breaking the kiss to look up at him.

And wish you'd googled how to invite a man into your hotel room without sounding desperate.

But you don't have to ask.

"Okay to come in?" he whispers.

"God yes," you gasp.

His lips are on yours before the door closes behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you sink into the kiss, snatching in breaths as his hands cradle your head. A soft whine is muffled against his tongue as you grip the front of his shirt, knees nearly forgotten as the tenderness of his touch wars the ferocity of his kiss.

"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips, his hands beginning to wander, molding you closer against him, his breath hitching as he clutches your hips. He pulls his head back slightly and you can feel his harsh breathing as he stares at you before crashing his lips to yours again.

The need grows stronger, almost primal, and you're backing towards the bed, gasping as his hands pull at your dress, nearly ripping it. Craving the feel of his skin, you do the same to his shirt, barely noticing the trail of clothing on the floor, too focused on his touch and his smell and the decadence of his kiss. He guides you down, swallowing your gasp as your bare skin touches the cool sheets.

Breaking the kiss with a harsh moan, he braces his hands on either side of you and lifts up slightly. He's panting, lips parted, and he gives a soft chuckle of surprise. "I didn't plan on this."

You lick your lips, still tasting him. And only craving more. "Neither did I."

He blinks, eyes almost wild as they dart from yours to your lips and back again. And all you can think—

Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. You know it'll never happen but the romantic inside you wishes you could wake up to his eyes every morning.

He leans down, and his kiss sends every coherent thought away. His skin is warm beneath your fingers, his hair softer than you thought it would be. His hands are rough but gentle at the same time, in your hair and trailing down your sides. Your name is a longing moan vibrating against your throat as you trace the muscles of his back.

"Lando," you gasp, arching beneath him.

"I know… I know." Hot breath at your ear, fingers digging into your thigh. Guiding your leg over his hip.

"Please." It's a soft moan.

"Fuck." His lips move to yours, his gasping whimper muffled.

The frantic need is still there but he's unhurried, as though he's trying to memorize every breath, every touch. When your hand flies out to grasp the sheet his hand follows, fingers threading between yours and gripping tightly. You're lost in the haze, sweat forming between you, sheets twisting. Ecstasy rises, peaks, and it's so sudden and delicious your cries ring out.

"Y/n." A desperate whine that only increases the bliss.

Rolling, twisting, arching. It's feverish and needy and so good so so good.

You both collapse, your hands in his sweat-damp hair. Panting, tingling, you wait for the awkwardness that never comes. His touch is tender, his lips gentle on yours before he's pulling away, murmuring that he'll get a towel. He's back before you can catch your breath, and by the time you can breathe he's kissing you again.

The sky outside is turning gray when you both breathlessly agree to get some sleep. You half expect him to leave, but he's there when you wake up, sleeping on his stomach next to you, his arm slung across your waist, his gentle snores telling you he's fast asleep.

And though you distinctly remember him saying he was going back to Monaco that day, he sticks around. Blushes and shrugs when you ask him about it over lunch, then suggests borrowing a friend's yacht for the night. The days bleed into the nights, a blurred span of time of sightseeing, swimming, and Lando.

When it's time for you to pack up to go home you feel a little bereft. But the vacation can't last forever. You've got to go back to real life, figure out how you'll live as a completely free woman. And he's got to get back to his life, jetting around the world and undoubtedly breaking hearts.

You exchange numbers and he promises to keep in touch, but you know you'll be forgotten before your plane takes off. You've been a pleasant distraction for his summer break, nothing more.

You're about to board when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. From Lando.

- You dropped your ring in my car.

As you stare at the words, you realize you haven't rubbed your ring finger in nearly a week. A picture appears on the screen, the ring – that he bought – resting in his palm.

- Hold onto it for me?

He won't. He'll give it away or sell it or take it back to the shop.

But, when you're back home and have exchanged texts with him and even a couple phone calls – yes I promise I contacted an advisor, I'm signing up for classes – and he lets you know his break is over and he's getting back to work, you cave and pull up footage of him in an interview.

He looks different on the screen of your laptop. Good, but different. And you can only focus on the necklace that's just visible under his (hideous really) orange shirt. When he leans, it shifts, and you see it.

Your ring.

"Are you still hung up on her?"

Lando's head snaps up at Max's question. "What?"

His friend gestures to the phone in Lando's hand. "That American?"

He feels his cheeks heat and realizes Max knows he's looking at your Instagram. "I'm not hung up."

Max just looks at him.

"I'm just checking on her," he mutters.

With a sigh, Max softens and sits next to him. "It's okay to like her, you know."

He huffs, his hand reaching to fiddle with the ring on his necklace. "She was just supposed to be a fling."

"But she wasn't," Max says after a moment.

Lando shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

Silence lingers, stretches as his thumb hovers over your most recent post.

Then, softly. "Am I stupid?"

Max shoots him a look.

"For thinking it was special," he adds before his friend can insult him. "For thinking she thinks it was special."

"Was it special?"

He swallows hard, rolling the ring between his fingers as he looks at the post, a photo of a cup of coffee next to a laptop. Up past my bedtime parsing Austen. Liking it, he closes the app and locks his phone.

Was it special? Or was it just the great sex and no strings that had him thinking it was? At first, in those days immediately after you'd left, he'd only thought about the sex. How freeing it had been, knowing he wouldn't see you again and could let inhibitions go. But with each week that passed the sex wasn't the only thing he thought about.

Laughter and sunshine. Salty air and sweet conversation. Honeyed voice and understanding eyes.

He lifts his head, meeting Max's eyes. He doesn't have to say it. Max has known him for more than half his life. But he answers.

"Yes."

Taglist:

#f1 #lando norris #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #my writings > ln #did i probably forget to tag some people? yes but it's 4:30am so

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mayfairg · 2 years ago

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alainmartinezstudio · 4 months ago

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fkinavocado · 5 months ago

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Warnings: 18+, smut, subrry, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

Part One/ alternatively, read on wattpad

Pretty like yours: Part Two (word count: 8.5k)

Harry was avoiding you.

At first you thought you were imagining things, but as the evening progressed, you realised he really was avoiding you.

You didn’t know how you’d ended up here, though.

Back at the hotel on that weekend beach trip, you’d heard your (very loud) group of friends coming back from dinner and you both scurried to put some clothes on and unlock the door, just in time for Mitch to open said door to the room he was sharing with Harry and for a few more of your friends to make themselves right at home on the bed that you’d just had sex on.

And that was some pretty amazing sex. Amazing enough that you were expecting a repeat, but not only did that not happen, nothing else happened either. You were leaving the next day, and, although there really hadn’t been a moment where the two of you could talk it out, he never reached out when you got back home.

You were expecting a call, a text, anything to at least acknowledge that he’d also had a great time in your company.

Instead,… radio silence.

For the first few days you just kept finding excuses for him. Maybe he was feeling confused, after all- he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship. Maybe he still loved Marissa. Maybe he was feeling guilty. Hell, maybe he regretted it completely.

But… you were friends, first and foremost. And you’d slept together, which, even in your books as someone who enjoyed casual sex, still meant something, something worth acknowledging!

As days went on it was becoming more and more apparent that Harry had just had a bit of fun with you, and he wasn’t even planning on a repeat based on how he was acting like it never happened. You blamed yourself for making your promiscuous ways known amongst your group. You’d never thought of it in that light before, because you’d never been hurt in the process before. If you ever hooked up with someone it was clear from the get go that was all it was ever going to be. But now, the fact that Harry had assumed that’s all you wanted and nothing more… when it definitely wasn’t the case, well, it didn’t sit well with you at all.

But you’d have never expected him to completely ignore you once you all hung out again, least of all at your friends’ wedding. This was downright rude, and it was making you feel pretty shitty. You’d looked forward to it, knowing he’d be there, even gotten all dolled up looking your very best. You’d been more than ready to finally talk it out with him and maybe, hopefully, figure out what was going on. Part of you still refused to believe he just didn’t give a fuck.

But looking at him now, you tended to believe it.

Harry was keeping himself busy at all times, talking to seemingly everyone else. Dancing with girls that weren’t you. Laughing with your friends and people you didn’t even know. Hell, he was having a grand ol’ time, never once even glancing your way.

For the first half of the day, you just wallowed in your disappointment. You’d never have pegged Harry for the fuckboy that would operate a hit and run, but… at the end of the day, you two really weren’t that close to know for sure.

But since this was a wedding you were both attending, your friends’ wedding, you couldn’t really sulk for the entirety of it. So for the party you tried your best to put on a brave act and pretend like you were having a good time. Even flirt a bit, preferably in his vicinity.

Because if there was one thing for certain, that was Harry’s attraction for you. He couldn’t have faked that. And since he was proving that boys will be boys, this would probably not sit well with him either.

The guy you were currently dancing with on the same dancefloor Harry was dancing with some (albeit very pretty) girl was getting a bit too handsy for your liking, and normally you’d have set some boundaries and maybe even stopped dancing with him altogether- that is if you weren’t noticing Harry scowling all of a sudden. You still never caught him looking your way, but he was visibly upset, and judging by the sweet smile on his partner’s face, it wasn’t because of her.

The way this guy was downright groping you was making you feel even worse, though. Reaffirming somehow what had been dancing through your mind for the past 2 weeks since the beach trip- that you were seen as an easy girl and that you’d been foolish to think Harry would even assume otherwise based on everything he knew about you directly from the source. And after getting cheated on, the last thing he needed was someone who he thought was putting out for everyone as easily as you had with him. Even telling him you’d had a huge crush on him for the longest time, he still must’ve had his mind made up about you, and you were just someone he knew he could have some fun with, no strings attached.

But for the purpose of making Harry jealous, you allowed this guy to get a little too close. You didn’t even know his name and he was trying to kiss you, his hands dangerously close to your bum.

You kept dodging his attempts but still flirted with him, which only spurred him on. And chancing some glances Harry’s way, you told yourself it was worth it. Especially when you finally caught him staring your way, and he didn’t even bother pretending like he hadn’t been.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to say something to the girl he was dancing with without breaking eye contact with you, then leaving her in the middle of the dancefloor, approaching you in quick, long strides.

“Sorry mate, need to borrow Y/N for a quick minute.”

And just like that you found yourself being ushered away, Harry’s hand on the small of your back urging you forward at a steady pace.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally spat as soon as you turned a corner a bit further away from the heart of the party.

You’d never seen Harry like this. He was usually just this easy going guy, almost took things in stride, you’d never seen him get into a heated argument with someone. His tone and body language were therefore taking you aback. Sure, you’d expected a reaction out of him- actually, hoped for one, the moment you decided you’d start openly flirting with other guys there right in front of him, but this was surprising.

“Doing what?”

He took a step closer towards you, making you step back and into the wall behind. You weren’t scared of him, not in the least, if anything his pained expression overshadowed his frown lines. “It’s bad enough that you… you, you used me… but this?! Why must you rub it in my face like this?”

“...Used you?!”

Harry scoffed, taking in your confused expression. “Yeah. Used. Took advantage of. Discarded me like it meant nothing the second Mitch and the others came back from dinner. I know you’re fine to just… hook up with people, but you never even so much as looked my way again that whole night! Like I was some sort of dirty secret you had to keep away from the group. Like I was… fucking worthless…”

“Harry…”

“And then you never gave me a sign afterwards, confirming that indeed, you’d just had your fun and it meant nothing–”

“Excuse me?! Harry, you never gave a sign afterwards either!”

“I tried seeking you out that very night, tried catching your eye, I wanted to talk about it, see where we stood, but when you never so much as looked my way once– not even once! I just figured… if I was wrong, then surely you’d say something but then the next day you were already gone before I even came down for breakfast!”

“Yeah– I had to leave early ‘cause I had to go into work that afternoon to make up for Friday… God, Harry! Way to jump to conclusions! I didn’t want the rest to know, because it’s none of their business, not because it was a secret. We hadn’t had the chance to talk about it so I didn’t know how to handle it, and I just got extra paranoid, I guess, in trying to not seem suspicious. Like, I was mortified when they nearly walked in on us, and our hair was all over the place, your braids had gotten undone, the bed was a mess, I’m sure the room reeked of sex, and I just felt like everybody knew! And I guess I just avoided looking at you altogether to try and save face… I didn’t even realise I was doing it, honestly. They never brought it up, though, so… I guess I was just being paranoid for nothing.”

Harry hung his head shaking it in disbelief then turned away from you, pacing a few steps then turning back to you. “You know, you could at least be honest with me now. Just tell me, give it to me straight. I can take it. Just tell me I wasn’t good enough–”

“What? Harry–”

“I mean, clearly there must be something wrong with me, right? Since my ex cheated and you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Clearly it’s me.”

You pushed yourself off the wall “Harry, stop this! What the fuck are you on about! I swear that was it, I was just paranoid they all knew we’d just fucked, and then I had to leave first thing the next morning but I waited for you to call! Alright?! I waited! You just ghosted me! Like… why was I the one that should’ve reached out, first of all, and secondly- I thought you just needed some space. Time to process what had happened! You’re clearly hurting, and you’re clearly not over Marissa, and you might still love her for all I know and maybe you regretted it! Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing that you regretted and just wanted to forget, maybe it’d been just something to try and get her out of your system, or to get even with her– fuck if I know! I just know that, at first, I kept telling myself you needed some time to figure out what you wanted and how you felt about it. And then days just kept rolling one after the other with no word from you and I figured I must’ve been right. For all I knew you and Marissa may have gotten back together!”

Harry watched you shout all that in his face, his nostrils flared and chest heaving, then ran his hands through his long hair and down his face. He slowly removed them after calming down a bit, “No, we’re definitely not back together. I hardly had any time to mope about her and what she’s done, I’ve been too focused on you. And not just… in a bad way. Like, I wasn’t just hurting over feeling rejected by you. Like, even now, dragging you here to talk it out… even watching you blatantly flirt with all those guys…” he eyed your right hand then reached to grab it and after a quick look around to make sure no one was watching he brought it to his crotch, pressing his hand over yours to make sure you felt just how hard he was underneath his dress pants. “Feel that? Tell me why I can’t make this go away. No matter how much I abuse myself it’s right back up again at the thought of what happened between us. You made me feel–” he inhaled sharply, twitching against your palm and your mouth fell agape at the sudden change in his demeanour. “Fuck, Y/N, like no one’s ever made me feel before. And then you took it away…” he whined, and you squeezed your hand against his hard-on making his whine turn into a moan.

You could see someone exit the bathroom from your peripheral vision to your far right, and you removed your hand and grabbed his loose tie instead, dragging him towards it. Praying no one was inside, you pulled him into the bathroom for disabled, and luckily, it was vacant. Harry laughed- genuinely laughed at how ridiculous and wrong this was, of course, and you just yanked at his tie harder before you locked the door behind you. “Listen, if someone needs it, all they have to do is knock!”

“Sure. Won’t be weird at all when two people scramble out of it.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it. Thought you had a bit of a problem worth tending to, or was I mistaken?”

Harry’s eyes darkened considerably at your proposal but he seemed to sober up just as quickly when he stopped your hand from reaching his belt. “Wait. Wait, what does this mean? We’ve both clearly fucked up waiting for the other to reach out, I don’t wanna assume anything anymore. Or wait for you to make the first move. I want you. More than just for tonight, more than just for this. I don’t do casual. You should’ve known this about me by now, but I understand why you thought I maybe wanted to try something casual after that whole long term shitshow. I know you do, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but if that’s all you want with this, then I don’t know if we should–”

You kissed him, cutting him short. He was just so adorable trying to blurt all that out and you just couldn’t wait a moment longer before you told him what he wanted to hear “Harry, in case you forgot what I told you last time, when, granted, you may have been a bit distracted, so I’ll let it slide– I’ve had the fattest crush on you ever since we met. And no, that doesn’t just mean I’ve been meaning to jump your bones, it means- what you experienced tonight? Watching me flirt with those guys? That was nothing compared to how I’ve had to watch you and Marissa for all that time, watching you not only flirt with her, but… care for her, respect her, make her laugh, soothe her,... love her. I haven’t had that, with anymore. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love. Don’t know what it’s like to be loved. And maybe the reason why I haven’t given anyone a real chance all this time is because, since I’ve met you, you raised the bar to the point where all the guys I meet just fall short. They can’t match up to the standard I have now, which is you. And I’m not saying this to put any pressure on this, whatever this is… Maybe it’s not going to turn into that, with us, and it’s fine. But for the first time, I feel something different, with you. It’s why I was acting like a fucking child just then, because I was hurt. I felt like I had my chance with you and blew it.”

“Fuck, Y/N… You didn’t blow it. Not at all. I did, I should’ve done this proper. Should’ve taken it slow. But I thought this is how you liked to go about things, just jump right in, I wanted to be… what you wanted. Wanted to be good for you, and maybe then you’d give me a chance. Had I known that’s how you felt about me I would’ve waited, asked you out, done it all proper. Instead, I just acted like all the guys before me… I guess… I must’ve not met the standard I’d set myself.”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t regret what happened, Harry. Not for a moment. I regret being foolish and overthinking it, and I should’ve just reached out. We were both a couple of idiots, can we agree on that?”

“Alright,” his sweet smile adorned his face once more, his deep dimples carving into his cheeks. “Can we agree on something else?”

“Hm?”

“That we’re a thing? Like, officially? I still wanna take you out and backtrack a bit, but we know eachother enough that I think we can tell if it’s something we both want or not…”

You matched his smile and his only got wider at your reaction. “Yes, Harry. We’re a thing.”

He let go of your hand and used both his to cup your cheeks and kiss you properly. It was hard to kiss while smiling as wide as you both were, but eventually you both relaxed into it and it slowly got more and more intense.

He broke the kiss when he suddenly pulled away and groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Why can’t I keep myself in check around you? This is not how I wanted this to happen, you deserve better. Not just another quickie hiding away from our friends...”

“I decide what I deserve, and I think I’ve earned watching your pretty face all blissed out while you come inside my mouth. Haven’t I?”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“Will you deny me, Harry?”

“Of course not, baby, you can have anything you want. I’m all yours...” Harry groaned then leaned his forehead against yours “I just hate that this is all happening in the loo like this.”

You both chuckled at that and you whispered “Well, we’re not taking the traditional route, we’ve already established that. But we can wait, if it’s putting you off.”

Harry exhaled shakily “I know I should do the gentlemanly thing and have us wait, but if you don’t touch me soon I’m afraid I won’t live to see that day.”

You giggled at that “What a drama queen. We can’t have that though, can we? I just love to see you all desperate for me like this. Would’ve been disappointed if you made us wait, puppy…”

At that you pressed your palm flat against his erection yet again and he moaned, letting you push him against the door and kiss down his neck as you worked his belt loose.

You slid down to your knees, your slip dress doing a poor job at cushioning your skin against the cold, dirty tiles, but you honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck, not when you’d taken his pants down with you and was face to face with his boxers. Harry had unbuttoned his shirt hastily, pulling it open, and his dick was pushing out of the waistband of his boxers, his leaky tip visible.

“Is it wrong that I’ve been dying to do this? Get my mouth on you. Even while being mad at you… I kept fantasising about what you might taste like.” You nosed at his erection through the cloth and you could already hear him panting in anticipation as you pulled him out. “You smell so good. Always smell so good. Love your cologne, but love the smell of your skin, the smell of you, even more.”

“Please… please…”

“Please what, puppy? Be a good boy and use your words for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes looking up at him, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to pry your eyes off of his cock. It really was a sight to behold and you felt your mouth water, eager to get a taste finally.

You loved when he got all flustered, but even so, he managed a breathy “please take me inside that pretty mouth, I can’t wait any longer, need to feel you, missed you…”

He sounded so desperate and needy you didn’t even wait for him to finish before you began kissing along his shaft, wet sloppy kisses, getting him all slippery before fitting the head in your mouth. It was already quite the mouthful and you moaned around him hoping to convey the message.

Harry slumped against the door, losing his footing a bit. “Oh, fuck, Y/N…”

“Taste so good. You’re just sweet all over aren’t you, pretty?” Harry whined, he was such a slut for a bit of praise and you loved it. He deserved every bit of it anyway, visibly melting at the praise but his cock got even harder if anything. “You’re gonna burst baby, I can feel it, can taste it. Want me to swallow it all up? I bet it’s gonna be a lot… you’re so big and heavy in my mouth, probably gonna choke on it…”

“Fuck, please, yes, please, please– I’m gonna–”

You deepthroated him then, and you felt him stiffen completely as you did so, then his whole body shuddered violently as he came down your throat, flooding your mouth instantly as you pulled back up a bit, choking like you predicted you would. You swallowed around him quickly, but could still feel his come dribbling down through the corners of your mouth, and Harry tried to wipe it away as he was crying out in pleasure- still careful with you even in the throes of passion.

When you finally pulled away you just stared at each other, both panting heavily. “What happened to asking for permission, hm?”

Harry’s eyes widened ashe helped you up, tucking himself away, snapping right back into action with the realization of what he’d done. He stammered to say something but you pulled him by the tie he was still wearing even with his dress shirt unbuttoned and kissed him passionately. He moaned deeply and you figured he must’ve never tasted himself before to garner this reaction from him, even now after he’d orgasmed. “You’re so in trouble, puppy. I let it slide once, the first time- remember? You’re not getting off the hook this time.”

Harry gulped and if you didn’t know any better you thought he was gonna ask you to make good of this threat right there and then. “Gonna punish me?”

You nodded. “Yes. But I’ll spring it upon you unsuspectedly. Just know you’re in for it. For now… I think we need to get back out there before people report us missing.”

Harry whined. “But…”

“Hm? Are you not satisfied with what you got? You greedy puppy…”

“Of course I am. Jesus, Y/N. I saw stars for a moment there. I just–I want…”

“You need a bit of aftercare, don’t you? Want me to hold you and love on you a bit?”

Harry paused, as if not expecting you to have guessed it. “–Yes. I want that. Very much. And I want to make you feel good too…”

“Tell you what. Let’s go dance. You can hold me as tight as you want. You can kiss me. I don’t care what our friends say or if they put two and two together. Alright? As for returning the favor, there’s no such thing, Harry. We’re not keeping score, are we?”

“Of course not. It’s not that I feel I have to, I want to. I just wish I could take you home tonight… but I do want to take you out first, on a real date, spoil you a bit. Wanna treat you right.”

“Coming down my throat is treating me right, Harry. I wanted this, remember? I’m not a porcelain doll. Trust me. And I will wait, because I wanna treat you right too, and I can tell this is important to you. Now let’s go out there, if you’re comfortable with our friends seeing us together, that is.”

Harry scoffed as he righted all his clothing and you checked your appearance in the mirror, “they’re lucky I’m not stealing the DJ’s mic to announce it to the whole venue.”

You laughed at that as Harry checked if the coast was clear for the two of you to hurry out of the bathroom. He then took your hand and led you back to the dancefloor, where, as luck would have it, they’d switched to some slow dancing. Just what Harry needed, as he pulled you into his arms, your head rested on his chest, you swayed to the music and pretended it was just the two of you in that moment you’d never forget.

Your friends were nice enough not to interrupt your moment on the dancefloor and even afterwards, they didn’t inquire, probably so they didn’t make the evening about you two, since this was someone else’s wedding- but boy did they blow up your phone the following days. Harry shared that he’d been answering texts about it just the same, and, well, it was official. The two of you were a couple and your friends were nothing but surprised.

Of course most of the girls had figured something had happened that day at the beach when they came back at the hotel and heard the door unlock just before they reached it. Then there was other incriminating evidence- your dishevelled appearances, the unmade bed, and the charged atmosphere. Not to mention, it reeked of sex, as per Sarah.

You were glad it was all out in the open though, you didn’t wanna have to sneak around even if it would’ve probably been better to navigate this at your own pace at least at the beginning. You two weren’t planning on spending time with your friends too soon, though. The first free night that worked for both of you was already booked for the infamous date Harry was gonna take you on.

You agreed to meet at the restaurant solely because you didn’t trust yourselves to have Harry pick you up from your place and ditch the whole date altogether. You hadn’t seen eachother since the wedding, almost an entire week, and, well… texting was nice, but even that you were losing control over.

You two needed to be alone, ASAP.

But the date was also something you were looking genuinely forward to. You’d barely had any time coming home from work to shower and change into something a lil bit more flirty, touched up your makeup the tiniest bit and rushed to get to the restaurant where Harry texted he’d already gotten to, a little bit earlier than what you’d agreed on.

You wanted to text him back that he was a cute, eager puppy but you refrained. You genuinely wanted this date to be more than just sexual innuendo, you felt like you two needed time one on one doing more than just devouring each other.

When you finally arrived, Harry’s face lit up immediately upon seeing you. He pecked your lips and helped you to your seat and you were already wondering how you were gonna get through the night without another bathroom interlude. He looked absolutely yummy, his signature skinny jeans and a flowy, half buttoned down short sleeve shirt, his curls brushing his shoulders and his eyes rounded and sparkly. You made a mental note not to stare at his pink, shiny lips but you caught yourself doing so an embarrassing amount of times before you even got to order.

You weren’t hungry in the moment though, you barely touched your food, and it looked like Harry was on the same boat. You were too busy talking, and the conversation was flowing. You talked about your common friends for a bit to ease into it, then it went to your work places, then the inevitable subject arose- your exes.

“You know I’ve never really had a serious relationship. So there’s not much to tell… you can ask me if you want, but I genuinely wouldn’t know where to start and what would even be relevant. I am, however, interested in hearing more about what went down with Marissa… but we don’t have to talk about it right now. Just… feel free to open up whenever you feel comfortable. Or, I don’t know. Tell me to get lost if you just don’t wanna talk about it at all.”

Harry smiled at that but he’d visibly gotten quieter since the subject had been brought up. “No, I want to talk to you about it. As you know it’s still fairly recent but that’s not the issue… the issue is how it ended and I just– I don’t know how to handle my feelings about it? I feel like I’ve just kept pushing them down and I don’t know how to work through them so that I can properly move on. I don’t want it to affect us in any shape or form. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m dwelling on the past instead of being present here with you, ‘cause it’s not like that…”

You reached across the table for his hand and squeezed it, but he didn’t let it go and you smiled at how nervous he seemed to be talking about this. “Have you spoken to anyone about this? The guys,...?”

“No, I mean… you saw how much they like to tease me about it. Can’t exactly open up and give them even more ammo can I? I’ve been talking to my sister a bit about it… I don’t know. She says I need closure. That I need to confront Marissa about what happened and hold her accountable somehow. But I just, I don’t know… isn’t that a bit pathetic? She cheated on me, what more is there left to say? I can blame her all I want, that won’t change what happened.”

“Wish I had any sound advice, but I just don’t know what you could do to make yourself feel better, baby. I’m sorry. Times like these when I really wish I had some experience in matters of the heart.”

Harry looked at you from underneath his lashes, “you really haven’t been in love before?”

You shrugged, “I know. I’m a weirdo, huh? I don’t know, it just never happened…”

“You’re not a weirdo,” Harry squeezed your hand. “I know it’s very caveman of me, but I love that. You haven’t really let anyone in, nobody has won your heart over, and I’m all the more excited to maybe– hopefully be your first.”

You mirrored Harry’s charged gaze and you had to admit, he could be onto something there, if the way your heart sped up at that was any indication.

“But… yeah… having said that. It was wise of you to protect your heart like that. I just throw myself head first into it. I fall hard and fast. And contrary to recent events, that’s not something that applies to all areas of my life, I promise.”

You threw your head back laughing and you had to remind yourself you were at a nice restaurant. Harry’s goofy grin made it even more funny. “Alright, okay… we’ll… assess later on. Are you telling me that you just fall for anyone, though? Am I just one of many?” You flipped your hair dramatically, evidently making a joke but Harry pulled your arm by the hand so that you scooted closer still.

“Not in a million years, Y/N. You’re very special to me, always have been. Please don’t say that. Yes I may fall easily but I lose interest pretty easily, too. Have had many short term relationships. This might be the reason I don’t do casual, I just can’t keep my heart out of it. But down the line I realize it’s just infatuation, and that they aren’t who I painted them to be in my head, you know? I idealize people a bit, I guess. I’m dramatic like that, quite the hopeless romantic. My past relationships have fizzled out pretty early, apart from this one with Marissa and a couple before her. But you? I’ve known you for so long… and you are who you say you are, you know? You’re so unapologetically you. I’ve seen the good, the bad–”

“The bad?!”

“Yeah, sure, like how cranky you are in the morning, how bad you are at remembering birthdays…”

You scoffed, kicking his shin under the table playfully, “excuse me?!”

“Oh, shush,” he grinned. “Like I was saying- I’ve seen the good, the bad, and even while being in love I still had a soft spot for you all that time. Kinda made me question my integrity.”

“You mean when you were fantasizing about me while fucking your ex?”

Harry shook his head, covering his face with his free hand, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“You never told me it was while you were in bed with her! Earlier when you told me you kinda alluded to just thinking about me when you got yourself off, I was just pulling your leg just now!” You laughed incredulously, “Jesus, Harry, for real?!”

Harry turned a deep shade of red and you had to fight his hand away from his face. He bit his lower lip and shrugged, “I tried not to. It just kept happening. I felt really bad for it, too, so much so that it kinda…” he cleared his throat, turning more bashful, “affected my performance. I still wonder if this is why she cheated, perhaps I just wasn’t satisfying her with the way it’d die on me midway like that… it happened a few times, not too many, but still she kept making it out to be a huge deal which just made me overthink it going further.”

“Oh my God, Harry. Baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this was such a touchy subject. Sorry I brought it up…”

“No, don’t be… I even thought I should mention it anyway, just in case it… happens again? Like, it didn’t, back at the hotel, but I was so excited it would’ve been impossible i reckon, plus- yeah. It wasn’t my best performance, let’s just put it that way. But hey at least that didn’t happen,” he chuckled nervously.

“Wait, no, don’t deflect with humour. You alluded at this back at the wedding, too. Said how you thought you maybe hadn’t been good enough and that’s why I hadn’t reached out? Harry, you’re insane– like, first of all, let’s just clear that up, alright? I’m not in the habit of stroking men’s ego just for the hell of it. In fact, I refrain from doing so because, really, that’s just a bad idea generally, let’s be honest. But, Harry, baby, that was just amazing. You made me feel incredible. Plus it was a new dynamic for you, I could tell you were nervous and wanted to do good, and you delivered an amazing performance all things considered. I was really impressed, to tell you the truth. Kinda been wondering if you rose up to the expectation, and you surpassed it.”

“I–wow... Really?”

“Uhm, yes?! You’re the real deal baby. Not that often you come across a well endowed man that actually knows how to operate the equipment.”

Harry bit his lower lip again, this time to avoid grinning ear to ear. Here it was, that praise kink again. You wondered if you’d live to regret telling him all this later on, but for now, it was pleasing you tremendously to see him react like this to your words of affirmation.

“Ahem, well… wow. Ok. Thank you for reassuring me. But as I previously stated, and not to sound like all this has already gone to my head… I can definitely do better.”

“Colour me intrigued.”

Harry cleared his throat, “but, just to backtrack a bit. I don’t want you to think this is something I normally do.”

“What?”

“Think about other women in bed. It’d never happened to me before. Actually, this whole discussion started from me telling you how special you were, the way you never really left my mind. But I’m realizing this might make you feel weird, or uncomfortable, so I apologise. I’m just being honest… I’m not proud of it, by any means, Marissa didn’t deserve that- well, not at the moment she didn’t. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. That being said, I don’t want this to make you ever wonder if I’m thinking about someone else while we’re together. I really do mean it when I say you’re special, Y/N. It’s not just the physical attraction, it’s like I said… I’ve known you a long time now. You’re someone I want to be around, like, all the time. Wanna bask in your presence. I realized I don’t feel the same way about any of my other friends. Haven’t felt the same about my exes aside from the initial honeymoon phase, either. I just… never get my fill of you, you know?”

You sat there, taking that all in and you had the presence of mind to come to the realization that no one had ever spoken about you like this, ever. Nobody has made you feel special. You didn’t consider yourself to be special, anyway. This was completely novel to you, and you had no idea how to react to it other than feel your heart rate pick up again. “Gosh, Harry… that’s… a lot to take in.”

Harry then hastily sat up and moved to the seat closer to you instead of across the table, still holding your hand this whole time. “I’m sorry, am I coming on too strong? Or did I make you feel uncomfortable? Both?”

You smiled at his worry and finally released your hand from his to caress the side of his face, “no, pretty. It’s just… no one’s made me feel like that before… you know? Like I was special, somehow. It’s just so foreign to me, and I don’t know what to do with myself now. All I know is that I’ve always felt the same about you, but, Harry- everyone feels that way around you. I mean, this can’t be news to you, surely you notice the attention you get everywhere you go, you just have this magnetic quality about you. It’s the way you give the person you’re talking to your undivided attention, make them feel like all your focus is concentrated on them and nothing else, the way you just light up a room and draw everyone to you like moths to a flame, your charisma, your charm, your gorgeous self. So me telling you how special you are must be something you’ve heard plenty of times. I just never thought someone like you could feel like I was special. Sure, the chemistry between us is undeniable but that’s a different matter, at least that’s what I think you meant…”

“It is, of course it is. I’m so excited for this, Y/N. And it’s not just the usual way I get excited about a new partner. It’s like… finally, I’m finally with the person I wanted all along, feels like I’ve arrived somewhere rather than just departed from somewhere else, you know?”

You twirled a curl of his around your finger, biting your lower lip. “You’re saying some pretty deep, beautiful stuff to me tonight, Harry. I didn’t know you were like this.”

“A goob”?

You yanked on his hair strand a bit in admonition, “no, silly. Romantic. But not in a cheesy way. I like it. I really like it.”

“And I like you pulling my hair.”

You squinted at him, “it comes and goes, though, doesn’t it?”

Harry laughed and scooted his seat even closer. “I’ll be romantic for you, I’m just trying my hardest not to come on too strong. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Can we go, so I can get right to it?”

You stared at his lips for a split moment before he went in for the kiss, and shortly after, you were both in an uber trying to keep it PG.

And failing for the most part.

As soon as you got to your place, though (the closest to the restaurant), you were all over eachother. Clothes were discarded hastily and you fumbled into bed finally, not really sure how you’d made it there.

Of course you’d anticipated bringing Harry home with you tonight, and you’d gone over several scenarios, things you’d been eager to try out with him, see what he liked, how far you could push his newfound submissiveness. All that went out the window though when you had him pin you down deliciously, his heavy cock resting over your navel, a very visual reminder of how deep he was going to bury himself into you in a moment.

You just couldn’t care less about all you’d planned out, all you knew was that you wanted him inside of you, the sooner, the better. And Harry was clearly on the same page when you pumped him a few times and painted his tip through your folds, positioning him at your entrance.

Normally, you were the kind of person who needed a bit of foreplay. Maybe a clitoral orgasm first to get you ready for a vaginal one. But as soon as he bottomed out you could already feel yourself right on the edge.

You’d been with big guys before, and yes, it helped, but sex was so much more than just that. A good orgasm wasn’t automatically a result of a precise technique just anyone (other than yourself, maybe) could apply.

Harry just got you there. Everything about him got you there.

From his gorgeous face, the way he kissed you, so wet and sloppy and intense, the way he breathed you in, got right under your skin to the point where it was like you were high on him.

The way he held you and felt you all over, a heady mix of gentle and assertive, tentative and possessive; the way he looked at you like he could eat you alive if you weren’t careful, to the way he felt inside of you, filling you up so perfectly like you were fucking made for eachother.

His pretty moans, you loved how vocal he was. His whimpers, his grunts, his huffs and the way he trembled when you kissed him as if that was the absolute peak of intimacy.

It was embarrassing how quickly you were coming around his cock. He was so pleased with himself he almost came then and there from the shock of it alone. “But I want another one. I can feel it, you’re going to ruin me with this next one, come on baby. Let go, I’ll catch you.”

He abused your clit then, thumbed at it just right, made you feel like you couldn’t possibly fit under your skin for a moment longer, and that’s when you squirted all over him, for the first time in your life, something you’d always suspected yourself capable of but just never got there, not even on your own.

Harry added to the wet mess immediately after, pulling out and painting all over you in turn.

Your legs were shaking something fierce when he dragged you into the shower but he managed to soothe your muscles into complete relaxation, caressing you all over and kissing you incessantly.

“I’ll be right back to get you, just gonna go change the bedsheets, alright? Just stay here under the water so you don’t get cold, baby.”

He was gone before you could sober up enough to tell him where to look for the bedlinen. You were so drunk on him, you felt like maybe switching the water to cold would bring you back on earth if only just momentarily.

But Harry was back surprisingly fast, wrapped you up in a fluffy towel and unwrapped you before tucking you under the duvet. You didn’t ask where he was going, you just loved watching him prance around with a towel around his waist, made a mental note to ask him to ditch it next time.

Next time. Your heart rate picked up again realizing there would be a next time, and a time after that. You were a couple, he wasn’t going anywhere in the morning. And instead of having this notion terrify you, it made you feel all warm inside.

You knew this was trouble, didn’t need anyone to narrate this in a Morgan Freeman voice for you to realize you were probably falling in love for the first time. All the cliche signs were there. But not even that realization terrified you.

Huh.

Harry was back with a tall glass of water, insisted you drank a bit before scooting in under the duvet next to you. Skin to skin, fresh sheets, and he still smelled divinely like himself. He spooned you and held you close and you were asleep before you could even go over everything that had happened in your head.

You did, however, wake up at one point in the night. You weren’t accustomed to sleeping with anyone, really. The short term relationships you’d had still didn’t automatically mean your exes would be spending the night often.

Harry had shifted a bit, splayed on his back, occupying most of the bed like a huge starfish. Funny, since he’d definitely been sharing beds for most of his adulthood, and still didn’t know how to keep to his side of the bed.

You weren’t sure how late it was, but the morning wasn’t close yet. It was definitely nowhere near close enough for the morning wood Harry was sporting. Which meant it probably wasn’t the reason for his impressive erection, he was probably dreaming of something really nice, hopefully you.

How sad would it be if he was already thinking of some other woman like he promised wouldn’t happen again, you laughed to yourself. You couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to you, even. He’d been so vulnerable with you, so open. You realized you’d never really gotten to what had happened between him and Marissa, apart from what you already knew. You made a mental note to continue that conversation later on, but for now, you had other plans.

It was just too tempting not to.

When Harry finally gasped, he almost deepthroated you with how he jerked awake. His guttural groan covered your choking sounds, though, and you didn’t let up. He reached to card his fingers through your hair and you popped off of him, “nuh-huh. Where’s your manners, puppy?”

It took him a bit to register the entirety of the situation but when he finally did he whined “Fuck, Y/N… can I touch you, baby? You’re making me feel so good. God, that mouth of yours...”

“Alright, go ahead. You like this, then? Feel good?”

“I feel… euphoric.”

“Good.” You paused to stroke him a bit as you spoke to him assertively, “because this is all you’re getting. Gonna edge you, over and over, until I fall asleep mouthing at this pretty cock of yours. How’s that sound?”

Harry whined again, even more pathetically, “but… you mean, you won’t let me finish? At all?”

You chuckled mockingly, “that’s right pretty, and do you know why that is?”

Harry shook his head poutily and you just cooed at him as you spat over him, watching your saliva land on his sensitive slit. “Well, puppy, I’m just making sure you never forget to ask before coming again, hm? Third time tonight… and I’ve been warning you. Naughty boys get punished you know…”

“Fuck!” He threw his head back on the pillow as you took him right back in your mouth and down your throat again.

And again.

You’d reduced him to a whiny, pouty mess in record time. You could tell he’d never had someone else edge him, he’d told you the truth. Not that you suspected any of what he’d told you to be a lie. And not that you really felt he deserved to be punished, he’d fucked you better than anyone else ever had. This was actually his reward. He just didn’t know it yet.

By the time his thighs were shaking and he incessantly pleaded for you to let him come, you scooted lower and played with his balls a bit, not giving any attention to his cock but you knew he was so far gone that he’d probably still finish just from this.

But when you pushed his thighs farther apart and tongued at his perineum he cried out so loud that you took pity on him and decided to end his agony. You took his throbbing cock back into your hand and languidly stroked him. “Ever had your pretty ass played with before, puppy?”

“N-no… never…”

“Not even by yourself? Never been curious to try?”

“I–I have, but… I don’t know…”

“Want me to give you a first too tonight? Just like you did for me? I’d never squirted before either, you know.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Y/N, really?”

“Mhm.” You kept licking at his sack as you talked to him, all the while stroking him but not applying as much pressure as you knew you needed at that point. “What say? Wanna try? You can say no, I won’t be upset or disappointed. And you can stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

“And I can come?”

“Yes, puppy, you can come, but I’ll let you come either way. You’ve been such a good boy, I can’t leave you hanging, not tonight. So? What will it be? It’s your choice.”

“Uhm… ok, we can try…” He was visibly shaking in anticipation, as you tried to gauge whether he was just eager to finish or actually give this a try.

You bent his knees a bit over his chest and gave him a tentative lick even lower down. Harry shuddered in pleasure and began blabbering about how he can’t hold off anymore. You knew he was right on the brink, you were proud of him for holding out for as long as he had. Licking again more vigorously, you knew you had to go easy on him, so all you did was give him a tentative fingertip. But it was enough for him to clamp onto and spasm around uncontrollably as he finally came undone.

You praised him through his orgasm, telling him how good he was for you, how pretty he looked like that, how brave he’d been to try something new. When he came down you scooted your way up his long torso and he kissed you even more ardently than before if that was even possible. “That was… incredible. I don’t think I ever came that hard in my life.”

“Good. Cause that’s the case for me as well. Wanted to give you something similar, I’m so glad you were open to it. Knew it’d blow your mind.”

“Fuck, that was… holy shit. I can’t believe how intense that was. But even the edging… it was everything I’d fantasized about and more. You’re… fuck, Y/N. You’re incredible. You’re never getting rid of me.”

And for the first time, that notion didn’t scare you. In fact, it made you hopeful. Maybe he really would be your first, after all.

lhh Masterlist

A/N: whew this sure took me a while but writing subrry isn't my expertise as you know! i wanted to get it right! hopefully i did him justice ❤️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

#harry styles smut #subrry #sub!harry #harrys styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #lhh #long hair harry #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles prompt #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x yn #fkinavocado

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authorhjk1 · 3 months ago

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Can you add this mashiro to your dress series??

White Lace

(Mashiro X Male Reader)

Mashiro knows what's going on. She sees you like this almost every day. Your phone in your hand, a slight smile on your lips as you swipe and type on your phone. Your other hand usually rests in your lap, slightly rubbing your cock in your pants.

Mashiro bites into the piece of cake she is having for breakfast. She knows you won't change. She knows you don't love her. And she knows you only married her for her parent's money.

Your honeymoon on Hawaii started two days ago. If you don't count her bridesmaid on the wedding day, you've cheated on her three times already, since you got married.

Right now, you're looking through an app for local hook ups. The woman you spent the night with left earlier this morning, so now you don't have anyone to satisfy your needs.

"O-Oppa."

You don't hear her the first time. But after she called you a second time, you look at her.

"Can't you.... Can't you use me?"

Seeing your face change from neutral to annoyed makes Mashiro look down.

"Why would I?"

The question makes her heart ache. She knows that arguing will only make you leave the hotel room. Mashiro gathers all her courage and stands up. She walks around the table, her white dress, flowing down her body.

You've already focused your attention back on your phone. When she looks down on you, your wife sees you swiping right on a gorgeous Hawaiian local. She is sitting on the beach, her selfie giving you a clear view of her face and her cleavage.

Mashiro doesn't know what to do. She can't leave you. She loves you too much. No matter how bad you treat her. And yet, she dies everytime on the inside, when she has to watch you cheating on her.

She didn't say a thing after the first time two years ago. She didn't say a thing at the wedding. Or on the beach on the first day. Or last night. But now, Mashiro doesn't want to stay this sorry pushover. Her being your wife means, that she is the only one who should sleep with you.

She takes a deep breath, before getting onto her knees. You look up from the phone, after sending that Hawaiian girl a message. Mashiro scoots closer, already starting to unbuckle your belt, once she kneels between your legs.

"What are you doing?"

You sigh.

"Please. At least give me a chance to prove myself. I-I can make you cum too."

You roll your eyes. She is already pulling your pants and boxers down, revealing your dick.

"Only until I find a better pussy I can put my cock in."

Mashiro swallows hard. She promises herself to try her best. To make you see what you're missing out on. That your wife is the woman who can take care of you best.

You feel Mashiro's lips wrap around your tip as your eyes focus back on your phone. One of her hands starts to stroke your base, while the other rests on your thigh. Seeing that the girl hasn't texted back yet, you go back to swiping through more local women's accounts.

Meanwhile, you feel how Mashiro gives you head, her mouth trying to take as much of you as she can. You instinctively reach out with your left hand and place it on her head, while your right keeps swiping. Feeling your hand on her head gives Mashiro hope. She can tell, you're starting to dictate the pace. She gladly follows, happy that you acknowledge that she is even there.

You don't find anyone who is hot and available right now. With annoyed sigh, you let your phone drop onto the table. For a moment you think about pushing Mashiro off your cock and going for a swim. But you do have to admit that her mouth does feel good.

You slowly place both your hands on each side of her face. Mashiro looks up at you with big eyes. She knows what comes next. She had to watch you do it last night too. Without a proper warning, you start to fuck Mashiro's face. Using her throat as a fleshlight, you jerk off your cock. The annoyance you feel from not finding a hot local to fuck, directly translates to how rough you treat your wife. She soon starts to choke again and again, whenever you shove her too far onto your cock. She isn't used to taking so much. Or to take anything at all. But now she doesn't complain, or doesn't do anything that could annoy you or throw you out of your rhythm.

You eventually do have enough of her mouth though. You pull her to her feet and bend her over the table. Without a word, you stand up and reach underneath her dress. Pushing her panties to the side, you align your cock with your wife's pussy. Your other hand has taken a hold of the back of her head once more.

Pushing into Mashiro, you don't give her time to adjust. You soon pound into her with all the built up frustration you feel, after being unable to fuck one of the locals. You push Mashiro's head further towards the table. Her face starts to smush the cheesecake on your plate. You make a point of moving her head to the left and right, covering her face with the soft cake. You keep thrusting into her, pushing her hips into the edge of the table.

You're surprised, when you feel yourself getting closer. Mashiro's pussy is tighter than you thought it would be, put she just doesn't have the body to make you cum. At least that's what you thought. As you keep pressing her face into the baked good, you drive yourself towards your orgasm, using her pussy.

After a couple of particularly hard thrusts, you finally unload inside Mashiro. Her hungry pussy takes all your cum, just like she as your wife should. Your phone lights up and you see the girl you texted has responded to you. You leave Mashiro's warmth and leave her bent over the table as you walk away, sending another text.

#ask #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #mashiro #kep1er #kep1er mashiro #kep1er smut

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carlamathew00 · 1 year ago

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admirxation · 7 months ago

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Marriage is just a piece of paper ~ Leon Kennedy oneshot

father-in-law!leon kennedy x daughter-in-law!afab!reader

summary - Leon has had his eyes on you ever since his son introduced you to him, and after the honeymoon he decides he won’t let your union come in the way of what he wants.

cw - this fic contains pseudo-incest and heavy smut; actions in this fic are not condoned; I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), description of disappointing sex with partner, pseudo-incest, injury, slight hurt/comfort, touching, tit play, unprotected sex (p in v), back scratching, dirty talk, and coming inside. (word count: 2.4k)

Honeymoon. A period of harmony following marriage. The word is known and experienced by many, whether it is a short getaway, a dream vacation, everyone has the notion that the honeymoon entails a dream like state of beauty. You, like many others, dreamt of sharing a honeymoon with a lover for so long, expecting it to be one of the best moment of your life, next to the actual marriage ceremony. After all, it’s in the name with the connotations it provides. Honey implies sweetness, and the moon casts an imagery of beauty and romance.

But expectations tend not to be fulfilled.

You and your partner had everything planned: going to your dream destination, it was a smooth journey, didn’t forget anything, surrounded by wonderful people, culture, many things to do and plenty of time to complete them and rest… But those weeks were the worst weeks of your whole relationship.

The first night was okay, nothing exciting. You got to your place and had some spontaneous sex, but it didn’t quite hit the spot, you felt like you had to perform every moan, every whine, and every movement — but you just ignored that, thinking you were just tired from all the travelling. Then, you tried a second time, you felt zoned out and faked another orgasm, it wasn’t one of your proudest moments. The third time, you two just stopped in the middle of everything because neither of you “felt it”, cleaning yourselves up and rolling over to go to sleep. You two were newly weds, but it felt like being trapped in a loveless marriage of 30 years.

The sex just stopped altogether on that journey. You did most things separately, him going on retreats and you staying at the beach; the only times you were together was just before bed watching whatever show the hotel allowed on and dinner time. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, but communication was a terrifying thing.

You two came back and were greeted with your house needing to have some renervations to be completed; you were lucky your partners father, Mr. Kennedy opened his home to you with no questions asked.

Mr. Kennedy was always lovely to you. You were terrified of meeting your partners father, but the moment you saw him all those fears melted away; he accepted you, supported and never made you feel unwelcome, he would even allow you to call him by his first name but you always felt uneasy and disrespectful.

You were now in a sea of thoughts about the honeymoon, analysing every moment and every bit of shared speech — but there was little speech to be focused on. Standing in the kitchen in a silky night dress that came to the midway of your thighs, distracting yourself with the coldest glass of water, the wet surrounding the glassy outlayer dampening your fingers as you stared out into the garden, surrounded by nothing but darkness and street lamps.

You were a wife. It was difficult to let that settle in, especially when the happiness of that wasn’t even short lived, it was non existent. It seemed like god was playing a cruel joke on you, punishing you for maybe picking the wrong person, or not trying hard enough. Whatever it was, you wanted it to stop.

As you kicked your head back to finish the last drops, feeling the cold wave pass down your throat you turned around to put the glass away, startled at your sight of Mr. Kennedy standing in the doorway.

Smash.

The sound of glass hitting the tiled floor filled the room, leaving you to hurriedly trying to pick everything up in a panic, Mr. Kennedy coming to your aid.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to, you know I wouldn’t do this on purp… Ahh!” you felt a piece of sharp glass slide against your gentle and soft skin of your index finger, automatically shoving the tip of your finger into your mouth, feeling the metallic thick taste of blood coat your tastebuds.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay dear, go sit down I’ll clean this up,” you hesitated at first just followed suit with sitting at the dinning room table just a few steps away from him; guilt eating at you as you heard the clatter of glass as he swept it all up.

The moment all the glass was swept away and collected in the bin, he came over to you with those kind eyes, motioning with his hands to come take a look at your finger.

“Ooo, seems like a nasty cut,” he said with sympathy, reaching out to a box in the middle of the table and grabbing a band aid, before gently wrapping it around your finger, gently shushing you as you winced in pain.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you smiled.

“You know it’s okay to call me Leon sweetheart,” you quickly apologised and rephrased your previous statement with the replacement of his last to his first name, “Why are you here, shouldn’t you be asleep, it’s quite late.”

“I could say the same thing to you… Leon.”

“Stop avoiding the question. What’s wrong? My son hasn’t hurt you has he?” a streak of protectiveness was shown.

“No. No. He’s been wonderful. Just… Just kinda getting used to the whole… being a wife thing,” the tone of your voice dropped in the last few words, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were a wife, especially with the lack of opportunity to feel like one.

“Trouble in paradise? You shouldn’t be having those thoughts, it’s too early for that.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“The honeymoon wasn’t exactly a honeymoon. We barely spent time together.” you felt him look at you differently, just then, feeling like his gaze was never going to sway and feeling like it was glued to your form, “anyways… thank you for helping me, I best get some sleep.”

As you were walking to your room, you were stopped with a rough hand grab your wrist. You never experienced this before with him. He never touched you like this; the only times he touched you was to hug you.

“Why don’t you stay… I could keep you company… Besides I can’t sleep anyways, I’m sure my son wouldn’t appreciate being awoken to you coming back to bed,” there was a small moment of feeling alarmed, just then, but that was easily and quickly diluted to how much trust you had in him.

You sat back down in your seat, feeling his gaze get stronger as the thin strap of your nightdress elegantly fell to the side; you didn’t think much of it and went to put it back in place, but Leon bet you to it. He leaned in and let his fingers tuck onto the band, placing it back on your shoulder and letting it linger there for a few moments before gliding down the soft skin of your arm — all you could do was blush at how close he was, and how touchy he was starting to become.

You should have turned him down right then; but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like him taking the freedom to get closer to you. All you could do was let out a soft giggle to ease the tension of unspoken words and exchanging glances between you two.

“I don’t know why he didn’t spend that much time with you. I wouldn’t leave your side,” your blush was getting intense, feeling how warm your face was and how your body was beginning to tremble with slight tremors due to his gaze.

“Thank you… I appreciate that… But I guess that’s what I have to get used to… besides married couples do tend to spent more time apart… or so I’ve heard.”

“Yes many do,” he took the invitation to have his hand place on your exposed thigh, roaming it up and down and slightly lifting your silky dress, so close it exposed your lack of underwear; Leon looked at your cunt with hunger as he felt his cock grow with looks and fantasies building from just imagining to fill that pretty pussy of yours, to give you everything he wanted to over the years. You sat there for a moment, wanting him to just take you, to smash your body against the table and feel him fuck you hard — but you were a wife.

You slowly pulled down the hem of your dress, looking away and not wanting to greet that blue eyed gaze that was already undressing you with suggesting staring.

“You know, the couples that do stray away from one another do it for a reason,” his hand ventured further and you could feel his fingers just hoovering around your pulsating heat, “sometimes that distance helps people find the one they need. It starts with just one night, then another, and then they find the right person.”

He wanted you. God he fucking needed to feel you, to hold you, to hear you, he wanted that for years and now he was taking the chance.

“… I’m not a bad person… This is wrong,” morality and sexual wanting was fighting in your brain, you needed a sweet release but knew betraying your husband was despicable, how would you feel if he laid with another ?

“You can’t deny that you want me… Is it so bad to indulge in a natural instinct, after all marriage for love is a new conception… The human body knows what it wants,” his voice was thick and smooth like honey, it enticed you with temptation running its course through each and every word and action Leon gave to you.

“And we live in a world where the conception is practiced. I married your son… I made vows that man, I signed the papers,” you tried to argue.

“Marriage is just a piece of paper, sweetheart… And right now, you can’t deny we both want to rip that paper up as much as I want to rip that dress from off of you,” he was leaning even closer.

“Will you… Will you keep it a secret?” if you were going to indulge in immorality you needed to cover your tracks.

“I’ll keep it a secret. I won’t tell anything you don’t say first. Now let me see if my fantasies come close to reality.”

Just then you felt a heat pool in every corner inside your body, feeling that urge and letting it make you lunge right into his arms, and letting him kiss you has hard as he wanted, feeling your lips collide with each interlock as your tongues glided against one another’s as he roamed his hands along your body as if he was your actual husband. You quietly moaned as his grabbed the fat of your ass, leaving an imprint of his hand the harder he squeezed it.

“Mmm,” you moaned continuously within that deepening kiss that made your core get hotter and needier, you felt Leon grow against you as he finally pulled the straps of your dress and tugged the material harshly, leaving the straps to snap off, and leaving you fully exposed under his scrutiny and the cold bite of the air surrounding you both.

“Fuck. You look even better than I imagined,” he cooed in your ear as he let his large and calloused hand grab your prominent breast, making you yelp at his touch, having him grab harder and with purpose the more he kissed you, and left bites on your lower lip.

“Oh god,” you groaned as you tossed your head back the moment he let his thumb and index finger trap your pebbled nipple and pinch it, rolling the bud along his fingers as he left you panting. “L-Leon,” you let out a whispered hush, just before he pushed his lower half into you and made you collapse on the table, leaving you to sit and wait for his next move.

You watched as he stripped himself and exposed his strong phsique, getting you even wetter as he frayed his hands by his waist and pulled down his pants, exposing his large and erect member that was tinted with a blush of red and wet with precum, waiting to come inside your entrance. You bit your lip as he started to stroke along the shaft, pumping himself before meeting the tip of his cock in your wet folds; you whimpered with just his slight touch, you wanted needed him. You felt yourself grow more impatient the more he slid along the folds that left a slick on his cock, leaving him to play at smirk at the corner of his lips to himself.

He finally had you.

“Do you want me?” he whispered in your ear.

“Of course I do.”

“You would have made a great wife for me,” he uttered as he slowly pressed his length inside you, releasing a laboured and long breath as he felt your wet walls surround him, feeling you clasp around him and beg to make you his. “Fuck, you feel amazing,” he hissed.

You let your body go and feel every single thrust Leon pumped into you, hearing his gutteral groans and dirty whispers in your ear everytime he pushed his large, throbbing cock inside and hit that perfect spot just right. You press your mouth against his shoulder, trying so hard not to let out your moans and wake your real husband up.

“God, all I want is to hear that pretty mouth scream my name,” he uttered.

“He’s g-gone tomorrow.”

He raised an eyebrow out of interest: “Oh, I thought this was a one time thing,” he slowly released as he continued to thrust himself in your aching pussy, his fingers pressed into your hips as he forced himself inside.

“I need you so much more.”

You saw a glimmer cross his blue eyes, a darkening clouding his vision just before he smashed his lips against yours, groaning into your mouth as he rocks his hips back and forth, picking up the pace to fuck that pretty pussy of yours.

He thumbs your puffy clit as he continues to fuck and drill into your cunt, jabbing that sweet spot over and over again.

“I want you to cum on me, I want to see your face as you do it,” he moans as he continues to maintain the pace with bucking his hips forward and circling your sensitive bud, making your breathing depending and elongating every time he messes with you.

You reach your peak with his masterful movements, letting out pants as you cover his cock with your release; shuddering, you not long after feel his nails dig into your back, lightly scratching and making you wince, as he releases streams of hot cum inside you, making your eyes roll back to your head as you feel him pump his seed further into you and make you his.

“You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

a/n: when i posted this on my wips post (in pinned post) i saw excitement to the father in law leon so i just had to post it. i will say ik it’s a little rushed but i wanted to get it out a bit quicker, i might also write some more father in law stuff, we’ll see. i hope you lot like this and all engagement is appreciated *kiss kiss*

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #divider by cafekitsune #smut #resident evil #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader

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