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[waybrightgender]

is there any way that i can tell moirail that theyre definitely autistic or at least suggest that they look into it without sounding mean

[marketing2011]

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[freedomfireflies]

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms. 

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable. 

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship. 

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.” 

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath. 

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers. 

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.” 

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you. 

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door.  "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything. 

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs. 

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit. 

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale. 

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper. 

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly. 

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle. 

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet. 

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch. 

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees. 

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard. 

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation. 

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him. 

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it. 

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?" 

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip. 

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free. 

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has. 

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years. 

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?" 

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want  something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head. 

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches. 

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing. 

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper. 

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up. 

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin. 

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back. 

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful. 

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument. 

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.” 

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it. 

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear. 

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you. 

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone. 

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in. 

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear. 

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle. 

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—" 

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high. 

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

[cute-sucker]

stealing rafe's clothes was always fun, because every single time you did it—he would give you this look.

it was this sideways look that made you stop what you were doing and then smile back at him that sugary sweet way before dragging a manicured finger up his chest.

not to mention it helped your attachment issues as if you had a small piece of him with you at all times. it was his calming scent that made you feel better as you wore it. sometimes your boyfriend was busy, well, he was busy most of the time. stealing his clothes was a short-term remedy.

it started small first, sweaters that were fluffy and a bit torn at the sides. the first time you wore his sweatshirt, rafe had smiled flicking at the little bits that were falling apart. he had just woken up, so he was extra nice with soft-mussed hair looking like a little boy. there was this wistful look on his face as he kissed you softly on the lips before heading up to clean up.

that was the green light, and before you knew it you were taking polo shirts. he had too many, and the pink one that he had lying around looked way too cute. then it went to ties, because, why not? they looked good with your outfits, and sometimes when you wore a jean skirt, pairing it with red lipstick and a tie made a juxtaposition that always made you smile.

and then came the comfortable stuff.

this was where he got extra annoyed, sweatpants and boxers. they were nice and he barely wore his sweatpants. to be frank, the last time you had mentioned sweatpants to rafe, he had given you this crazy look. because apparently anyone who wears "sweatpants," is letting loose. so he wasn't going to miss anything.

so you couldn't help yourself as you put on a polo shirt before heading over to the kitchen, and a mini skirt. the shirt was a bit big, but you didn't mind because it smelt like him. honestly, you didn't think that rafe would have a problem with it. today was the day that rafe had decided you could come golfing with him, and some of his buddies. the shirt was a bit big on you

rafe was settling up a deal, and you could hear him argue on the phone. as always he looked recklessly handsome, hand on the phone before giving you a tightlipped smile. he was drinking one of those disgusting protein shakes as you sat down next to him.

you smiled back at him, before starting to fix yourself some cereal. in a few minutes, you found rafe looking at your outfit with a scrutinising look, coffee cup in hand before taking a sip.

"what's up?" you murmured, not noticing the look that he was giving you.

"nothing really." but you could hear an air of haughtiness in his voice as you ate your cereal.   

then you looked up at him. just as you thought, there was this slight annoyance in his eyes as he looked you up and down. you put down your spoon before cocking your head.

"uh huh? you sure? you're giving me that weird look."

rafe pursed his lips, murmuring something under his breath. you folded your hands, biting your lip. your insecurity reared its ugly head.

"what was that?"

rafe looked back at you with a faux confused look, "nah, nah don't worry about it, but you might wanna change."

"why would that be?"

rafe looked shocked at your quick refusal. usually, you weren't this outright disrespectful to him, denying him what he wanted. most of the time you would peck him on the cheek before agreeing.

"you seem extra chipper this morning," rafe muttered, looking away from you before taking a sip of his coffee.

"rafe, why would i need to change?"

rafe sighed, putting his mug down while rubbing his head. "jesus kid, i don't really need this right now. you're wearing my clothes. the guys have seen me in that exact polo last week."

"so what? what, you think they'll remember the polo on you, last week?"

"are we seriously fighting over this?"

"well, apparently we are," you bit back, looking away from him. your heart ached whenever you fought with rafe, and you were holding back the tears. finally rafe looked at you again, his blue eye softer.

"shit, listen," he muttered, placing a hand on your shoulder. his gentle tone made you putty in his hands barely hearing his harsh words, "don't make it a big deal but i don't know—i've gotten you so much useless shit. last night we got those mary jane shoes and i feel like you stealing my shit makes me look bad."

finally you stilled, pouting, before looking down. you never wanted to make rafe look bad, and you especially didn't want to be infront of his bosses and friends.

"i know, but wearing it makes you feel close," you squeaked out, rubbing your hands to make yourself seem smaller. at this, he placed his hands in yours, a slightly confused look on his face before he gently lifted your chin to look at him properly.  

"don't do that sweets, keep your pretty eyes on me," he mused, and then dragged you closer to his chest, and you could practically hear the drum of his heart, and the rumble of his voice, "i'm always close."

"yeah i know."

you didn't really want to talk about it. not today.

rafe seemed to sense that and then gave you a tentative smile. he pinched your cheek before whispering into your ear.

"hmm, how about you give me a kiss?"

you couldn't help but sigh, as you leaned closer to peck his lips. rafe was softer than usual, and you couldn't help but taste the coffee on his tongue, and the way that his hands were placed in a tight grip of your waist. you leaned against him before looking at him again with wide eyes.

"so i can wear this?" you asked hopefully.

"hell no," he groaned, "c'mon wear one of those cute outfits you got last week. and if this is about being close, i'll hold your hand the whole outing."

"alright...but you don't mind?"

"why would i, when i got my pretty girl by my side?"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

bonus

"hey man, you can let her go. she's not going to fly away," his coworker laughed, wiping his head with a towel while leaning on his golf club. the comment was aimed at the fact that you had been holding rafe's hand the whole time the two of you had been there.

he had kept the promise.

the whole trip rafe had held your hand, softly grazing your hand while smiling at you reassuringly whenever you seemed to get self-conscious. he was kinder today, holding you gently as he helped you get off the golf cart. he may have been extra nice, but you swore whenever you saw that same crazy rear in him when his business buddy made that joke.

rafe fixed a glare at his buddy. you looked oblivious, still threading your hand in his. you pointed at the ball and how far it had gone. there was sweet happiness in your voice, as your eyes creased with joy. rafe couldn't help but bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing at your innocence. you seemed to make life so much brighter for him.

"look at it rafe! look at how far it went...maybe i can do this more often. do you think i have a knack for it?"

rafe nodded, giving you a smile before glaring at his buddy who was now laughing, "i think you can do anything, baby."

he tried to ignore the guy practically cackling in the corner, as you smiled at you sweetly.

shit, he was pussywhipped.

[sturniqlo]

Want You- C.S

summary: headcannons of bff!chris who is in love with bff!y/n but they're both to afraid to say anything so they just flirt and do couple things without being official.

cw: cursing, suggestive material, fluff

an: lowercase intended | mix of both sfw and nsfw

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

bff!chris who cuddles you no matter what

"time for the best part of my day." chris says before hopping into his bed, wasting no time in cuddling his best friend y/n. "which is?" y/n says jokingly, even though he always says that anytime she stays over. "being able to cuddle you all night, you know i hate sleeping alone." he says, pressing a small kiss to her hoodie covered shoulder before hiding his face into her neck. "i know, i know." she says while running her hand in his hair.

"let her breathe, chris. my god." nick says as he comes down the stairs and sees his brother laying on top of y/n. "shut up, you're just jealous." he says lifting his head slightly before putting his face back in her neck. y/n only giggles, continuing to lightly scratch his scalp.

"wait, scroll back up. i wanna watch it again." he giggles and lifts his arm from around her waist to wipe his tears from how hard he was laughing. y/n scrolls back up and they rewatch the video and busy out laughing at the stupid video. chris buries his face in her tummy and continues laughing.

bff!chris who gets jealous whenever a guy looks at her

"what?" she says as she feels chris wrap his arm around her waist. they were currently at a club for their friends birthday. "that guy is looking at you." he nods his head towards the guy. y/n looks at the guy and decides to mess with chris a bit. "ouu, he's kinda cute" she teases "y/n, be serious." he says in her ear. "i'm kidding, i have my eyes on someone else."

"see that guy over there?" chris says as y/n looks through a rack of clothing. "where?" she looks around. "that one wearing the ugly brown tie dye shirt." y/n spots who's he's talking about. "what about him?" she continues to look through the clothes. "he keeps staring at you." chris glares at him. "stop glaring."

bff!chris and bff!y/n who accidentally kiss when saying goodbye

it started off with a kiss on the cheek. when y/n would go back home, chris would kiss her cheek as a form of saying goodbye, soon enough y/n picked up on the habit and also started doing it. one day, they accidentally kissed. "bye, chris." y/n hugs him. "bye, y/n i'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he goes to kiss her cheek and y/n does the same not realizing he's doing the same. suddenly their lips touch and they freeze. "oh my god- i'm sorry!" y/n's face is red. "it's fine, really." he giggles and blushes.

"bye, y/n." chris grabs her chin and places a small kiss on her lips. "oh- bye chris." she connects their lips again and pulls away once they are both gasping for air. "sorry, my lips slipped, see you saturday?" chris opens the door for her. "of course." she nods before walking out to head to her car. once her car is out of sight he closes the door smiling. "that was a very friendly goodbye between you two." nick teases. "shut up."

bff!chris who always gets hard whenever she sits in his lap

"y/n, s- stop," chris grips her hips to make her stop moving in his lap. y/n and chris were currently on their way to top golf with thier friends and she had to sit on his lap due to the lack of seating in the car. "chris, the car is moving, i can't help-" y/n is interrupted when she feels something poking her ass. "chris are you-" he puts his hand over her mouth. "shut up."

"hey, give it back! it's my turn to pick a movie!" y/n tries to reach for the remote that chris took from her hands as they were laying down on his bed. "no, you're probably going to choose one of those rom coms. we've already watching one." he lifts up his arm where y/n can't reach. "come on, chris. i know deep down you love 'em." she teases, getting rid of the blanket covering her and crawls to where chris is. "do not." he scrolls through the movies. y/n goes on his lap and tries to snatch it from him. chris freezes and he starts to feel a tightness form. "thank you." y/n grabs the remote and goes back to her spot. "i'll be back." chris coughs and heads to his bathroom.

bff!chris and bff!y/n who are always touchy with eachother

"excuse me, chris." y/n passes in front of chris and teasingly rubs her hand over her sweatpant covered dick. chris turns flustered and looks around to make sure his brothers or thier friends didn't see. he goes over to y/n who's three feet away from him and whispers in her ear. "don't start something you can't finish."

"chris!" y/n scolds him quietly, pushing his arm that was currently wrapped around her shoulders specifically his hand that was comfortably resting on her boob. "oops!" he looked at her with a knowing smirk on his face.

bff!chris who makes a playlist specifically for her

"go to my spotify and see what i made for you." chris giggles handing his phone to y/n. "im scared." she teases. "just go." chris watches as she unlocks his phone, the wallpaper being the two of them and she scrolls to the next page of apps, clicking on the app. the app opens and its opened to his many playlists. however, she spots a new one. for y/n 💫

chris was currently moping in his bed. it was day one of fourteen that y/n will be on vacation with her family for her parents wedding anniversary. he sighed, unlocking his phone seeing his favorite picture of the two of them, he opens his spotify app and plays his for y/n💫 playlist and opening his messages app. i miss you :( come back already. he sent it, a song and a half later, his phone pinged. it hasn't even been a whole day.... but i miss you too. i promise i'll stay over a while weekend at your house like we mentioned <3

bff!chris who always shows up to her house unannounced

y/n was sitting in her living room, rewatching her reoccurring obsession, twilight. she was two movies in when she heard the doorbell ring. she wasn't expecting anyone today. maybe it was one of her parents or siblings who forgot their house key. scoffing, she pauses the movie and gets up to head to the door. she opens the door and is met with chris. "what are you doing here?" she says confusingly. "y/n! i also missed you very much, and i glad you're happy to see me!" chris says. "sorry," she giggles, moving aside to let him enter the house. "i just wasn't expecting you here."

"there's a surprise in your room." y/n's younger brother says as soon as she enters the house. "what are you talking about?" she goes up the stairs, shopping bags in hand. opening her door, she sees someone comfortably laying in her bed. "oh good, you're back." chris rolls over and sits up, his hair a mess. "how long have you been here?" she laughs.

"y/n! there's someone here for you." her mom yells from downstairs. "coming!" she exits her room and walks down the stairs spotting chris right away, a fast food bag in one hand and a cup holder in the other. "chris? i didn't know you were coming." she signals her head so they can go upstairs. "thanks for the shake and fries, chris!" her mom says as they head up. "no problem!" he says back. "i heard from you mom that you weren't feeling well about your exam score, so i brought shakes and fries. thought we could watch some movies."

bff!chris who always get shit from his brothers because he still hasn't asked you out

"so, when are you gonna ask y/n out? still scared she's gonna reject you even though she gives you heart eyes every time she looks at you?" nick tells his brother, he knows how stubborn both his friend and brother are at expressing their feelings vocally. "soon." is all he says. "soon, soon, soon. you always say that." he mocks him. "i bet she's counting down the days until you ask her out officially."

"did you tell her?" is the first thing chris hears from his brother matt as soon as he walks through the door. "tell who what?" he puts his keys on the table. "don't act stupid, kid. did you ask y/n out officially?" matt explains. "not yet, soon though." chris says before heading down to his room. "soon, soon, soon." he hears matt say.

bff!chris who officially confesses his love for you

"i have to tell you something, and i think it's about time." chris says next to y/n. they were currently sitting on a huge rock watching the sun go down and seeing its reflection in the water. "what is it?" she picks up her head from his shoulder. "i really like you, like really really like you. i think it's safe to say that i love you. so much. and we've practically been acting like a couple for so long now, i think i want to make it official if you're okay with it?" he looks into her eyes, searching for an answer the bright sunset making her eyes pop. "really?" he nods. "really." he says, and she smiles. "so, can i be your boyfriend?" chris tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. "only if i can be your girlfriend." she presses their lips together in a sweet kiss.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the bosses daughter part one

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male and female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, golfer!rafe

part one / part two

“who is that?” rafe asks, leaning forward to get a better view of the ponytail that's swishing through a sea of polo shirts.

“bosses daughter.” his coworker quickly warns. “don't even acknowledge her of he'll fire your ass.”

rafe doesn't take the threat too seriously. he's mostly just working to please his dad and show ward that he can commit to something, even if it is just teaching golf lessons twice a week.

“she's hot though.” he argues back, eyes moving down your back to the short golf skirt covering your ass, accentuated by your thick thighs.

“which is why she'll never go for you anyways.” despite his coworkers jokes, he's got it all wrong.

“why hello.” you smile, walking up to rafe a while later, when he's out away from the central club and warming up with some swings. “i don't think we've met before. im y/n.”

“rafe.” he answers happily, finishing the last ball of the line off with a powerful swing that you both watch go sailing through the air. “pleasure to meet you.”

“you haven't been working here long.” you state. “im sure i would have remembered you.”

“oh yeah?” rafe smirks. “and why's that?”

your cheeks tinge with blush but it doesn't stop your tongue. “you're just my type. i already remember all the cute golf guys.”

“all of them?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “you're already making me jealous, princess.”

“well, if it makes you feel better you're the one i left the club to find.” you hum out, leaning your hip against his golf cart.

“and it would make me feel even better if you found me again after my lesson.” rafe looks at the 10 year old he's been teaching as he trods through the grass. “don't want your dad to get mad about me missing a lesson, though i would for you gorgeous.”

you smile, biting your tongue to stop yourself from continuing to flirt as the mother of the young golfer crests the hill. you watch the lesson for a few minutes before retreating back to the country club.

“any of the guys giving you shit, y/n?” your dad calls as you enter into the bar area, of course sat chatting with a customer and longtime family friend, which was the category most of the clientele

fell into.

“nope.” you answer, popping your p. “i was just watching a lesson for a bit. cute little kid and the instructor was real nice. i think he's new.”

“rafe?” your dad raises his eyebrows and you don't miss his friend chuckling. “you stay away from him y/n.” he says sternly.

“ugh, you tell me to stay away from everyone dad.” you roll your eyes dramatically.

“exactly.” your dad says, giving you a pointed look. 

you give him a pout right back and leave the room, finding a quiet spot to scroll on your phone as you wait for time to pass, ready to not take your father's advice.

you figure rafes lesson must be over by now and make your way back outside, deciding to ditch the golf cart and go on foot looking for him. you make it only a short distance down the main path until you spot him.

“still jealous?” you question, sliding into the passenger seat of his golf cart. rafe instantly takes off, driving you slowly away from the centralized area.

“depends on what you were doing while i was teaching.” rafe hums out, a hand reaching over to place itself on your thigh, a still respectable distance for now.

“oh, just getting a lecture from my dad to stay away from you.”

“and yet here you are…” rafes hand inches higher. “letting me drive you away from the club.”

“hopefully to the most isolated spot…” you take rafes hand and move it upwards, guiding his fingers underneath your skirt, making your intentions blatantly obvious.

“as concealed as possible, yeah?” rafe asks, hand slipping between your thighs, pressing against your core as he begins to stroke softly. “not a fan of being watched?”

“not when everyone would run back to tell my father.” you chuckle before gasping as rafes fingers change their angle to rub directly against your clit.

“then your better keep a straight face while we drive past these guys.” rafe warns. your eyes blink open, you hadn't even realized that you closed them. 

you let out a soft moan as rafe presses further into your clit, knowing that the front of the golf cart is blocking their view of his hand underneath your skirt.

“come on, at least try to hide how good im making you feel.” rafe smirks at you as you attempt to straighten out your face as you drive by, thankfully the golfers are more interested in their game than whoever is speeding by.

rafe moves to a hole that's been taken off the course in favor for new builds, waiting for it to be revamped, meaning no one is likely to be around.

“behind the trees.” you point ahead at a patch of pines that should conceal you perfectly.

rafe pulls his hand from your pants as you let out a huff of disapproval, only for him to quickly put the car into park. 

you both jump at each other at the same time, lips finding lips as you straddle rafe, hands on his neck as you kiss him passionately.

rafes hands are now free to explore without worrying about wandering eyes, rubbing down your back before dropping to grip your ass from underneath the flap of your skirt.

you can't help yourself, needing the stimulation back on your clit as you push your hips down, grinding against rafes cock as you feel him stiffening and growing underneath you.

“wanna suck you off.” you tell rafe, sliding off his lap and onto the floor of the golf cart.

“hell fucking yeah.” rafe growls out, watching with anticipation as you reach for the zipper on his golf shorts, tugging at the metal until he lifts his hips to help you pull the khaki material down to his ankles.

your eyes crinkle with a smile as you see rafes length clearly pushing against the fabric of his underwear.

despite needing him desperately, you can't help but tease him as you press kisses from his base to the head of his cock, a small wet spot already forming.

your tongue pokes out to taste him, wetting the material even more until you can't take the barrier any longer and shove rafes underwear down, allowing his cock to spring out.

you open your mouth to tell rafe how big his cock is, when his hips surge forward and his hand comes to the back of your neck at the same time, pushing your head down onto his cock.

you gag at the sudden and unexpected intrusion, but the sound only seems to turn rafe on more as his cock twitches in your mouth.

you begin to start a steady rhythm, rafes hips raising to meet yours as you get used to the feeling of his length down your throat.

“fuck!” rafe groans out. “what a mouth you got on you.”

you try to resist the urge to smile, but rafe can still feel the sides of your mouth quirking up.

rafe pulls you by your hair, raising your face up to meet his as he smashes his lips against his, not caring that he can taste himself slightly under the overpowering flavor of your strawberry chapstick.

“need you.” rafe says, tugging on your hair again.

you move quickly, standing up with slightly wobbly knees as you pull your skirt and panties down in one smooth go.

“shit.” rafe groans, pussy right at his eye level. “need to do this first though.”

rafes chin forces your thighs further apart as you fall backwards, bum landing on the steering wheel while his mouth finds your cunt, tongue teasing your clit in wide circles as you wait for him to finally pass over the bundle of nerves.

just when you think that rafe isn't going to, his tongue flicks against your clit before latching around it, sucking harshly as he looks up, watching the way you moan out, still trying not to be too loud.

“ride me.” rafe says, pulling away, knowing he could eat your pussy forever but that you both don't have the luxury of time. certainly your dad would be getting suspicious of your absence soon.

rafe leans back, allowing you to straddle him again, knees pressing into the leathery seat material.

you reach down to take his cock in your hand by the base, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down with a moan falling from both of your lips.

“god, you're so warm and wet.” rafe moans out, eyes glossed over as he looks at you, both soaking in the moment of your bodies joined together before you start to move, hips rising up before falling quickly, pussy clenching around his cock with every movement.

“you feel perfect.” you tell rafe honestly, loving the way he hits that hidden sweet spot inside of you every single time without fail.

you place your hands on rafes chest, providing you some more stability as you speed up until you're bouncing up and down on his dick.

rafes hands find your hips, helping you move up and down the second you show any sign of fatigue.

“im- i don't know how much longer im going to last.” rafe warns. he wishes he could keep going, but with already having your mouth around him, he knows he's about to reach his limit. 

“touch my clit.” you command rafe, knowing that's all you need to reach your own high.

rafe listens to your demands instantly, thumb finding your clit as he places the pad over it, rubbing in quick circles, even concentrating enough to spell out the letters of his name onto your clit.

“f-fuck!” you squeal. “keep going!”

rafe begins to push his hips up to join you, both of you pushing your tired muscles as hard as you can, waiting to see who the first one will be to break.

your high breeches suddenly, back arching as you cum with a gasp of rafes name. you push yourself as deep onto rafes cock as you can, moaning when you feel him release, cum flooding your insides as you reach your highs simultaneously.

you fall forward as rafe gives a few more thrusts to help ride out your highs.

“shit.” you whine with a giggle as your face presses into rafes chest. “that was so fucking good.”

“honestly, i could stay like this forever.” rafe says, hand squeezing your ass.

“but…” 

“but your dad.”

“ugh.” you sit up, pushing a couple strands of hair off your face that are sticking to your sweaty forehead. “i hate that you're right.”

“but my next lesson is thursday.” rafe says as you carefully slide off his cock, knowing you need to redress immediately. “if you'd like to find me after that shift.”

“hm…” you sit back down next to rafe once you've got your skirt on, watching as he covers himself back up and makes himself presentable again. “i think i can do that.”

“promise you baby, you won't have to look too hard.” rafe pulls you into one last strong kiss before taking off back towards the club.

[niiwa-angel]

I can't stop thinking about how Stan Pines, a man who was kicked out of his home at a young age by his abusive father, turned his own home into such a safe space for not just the twins, but his employees and the kids friends as well.

First of all, we know Wendy frequently slacks off on her shifts, she has her roof top hideaway but she also reads magazines and flat out refuses to do certain tasks. Like when Stan asked her to put up a sign and she just said she couldn't reach it, or telling Stan "absolutely not" when he asked her and Soos to clean the bathrooms. Not only could Stan fire her, he could take away her magazines or stop her from going on the roof. We see that Stan is more observant than he lets on, you're telling me he didn't notice her dragging a cooler and a lawn chair up there? And she's either bringing her own pop and ice to fill that cooler or she's taking his.

And then there's Soos, who Stan cares about so much he got himself on the no-fly list trying to get his birthday removed from calendars, just because it made him upset. We know Soos cares about the Mystery Shack, he feels comfortable there, and he respects and adores Stan. Soos also volunteered to DJ for free at Stans summer party.

We also frequently see Soos and Wendy hanging out with the twins, so either they're slacking off during working hours or they're coming over after their shifts just to hang out. In an after credits scene, we see Mabel and Dipper turn Soos into a disco ball and they're clearly in the residential part of the shack. So either Soos buggered off during working hours to hang out with the twins or he's off shift just chilling. Either way, Stan is fine with him being in the actual house part of the shack.

Wendy also helps Mabel try and make Stan more 'desirable' to Lazy Susan, which I'll get into later, but she's not working and she also in the house part of the shack. We also see Soos and Wendy watching television with Stan, Mabel, and Dipper during the Summerween episode. They aren't on shift! They're just chilling. Wendy hits Stan in the face with a water balloon while working as a lifeguard. She's comfortable teasing him.

Soos tags along with Stan, Dipper, and Mabel when they break into the golf course after hours. He brings his shirts to cut Ws into. He doesn't have to be there, he just is. Wendy goes hunting with Mabel and her friends for unicorns. Mabel wins a pig at the fair and Stan lets her keep it, the pig needs food, who do you think is footing that bill?

Now let's talk about friends. Mabel often has Candy and Grenda over, we know she has loud sleepover with them. Do you think Mabel would bring her friends over if she wasn't comfortable in the house? Do you think Candy and Grenda would keep coming over if they didn't feel safe? Not to mention, they literally ambush Stan in the bathroom and give him a make over. Which he allows, we see him fight off the undead, punch bald eagles, and catch the twins when they fell from the nose of that monument. The man is strong, he could get three preteen girls off him if he wanted to, he was 100% playing along.

Candy and Grenda also invite themselves along on their road trip. And Stan lets them come!! Mr cheap stake agrees to feed and care for two extra kids who aren't his family.

Dipper sneaks around trying to see his tattoo, he feels safe enough with Stan to push those boundaries. He literally pulled the Memory Gun on Ford during the basement scene, if he wasn't comfortable with Stan, he wouldn't try to get that close to him. He calls Stan when he and Mabel are trapped in a haunted convenience store (he doesn't answer but still, he called him).

Now let's talk about Gideon, because I will stand by the Stan had some fondness for the kid. We know Stan has been annoyed with Gideon for a while, we know Gideon has been gunning for Stan for a while. And Stan just... Keeps letting this happen. He never involves the police, he plays along with Gideons attempts, even when Gideon is laughing uncontrollably, Stan just assured him that "you'll get me one day kid". Even when Gideon climbs in THROUGH THE WINDOW all Stan does is aggressively sweep at his feet. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Stan never gets rough with Gideon.

I'm just, I'm weeping over the knowledge that Stan Pines, who wasn't safe in his own home, made his home a safe place for kids as an adult.

[donatellawritings]

if requests(?) are open what do you think about bff!rafe whos absolutely down bad for reader ☺️

bff!rafe is honestly the most obsessive man ever and has no sense of boundaries ngl

truth be told, you and rafe haven’t even known each other that long, barely a year, to be exact. when you had moved into the pretty little baby blue house that overlooked the busy docks and calm waters, rafe had just made his long overdue return to figure 8. you were fresh out of college, and as free as a baby bird — with a somewhat matured rafe who was patiently waiting on the perfect moment to swoop in and teach you to to fly — his way.

you see, rafe was the man of his family now, and as the leading man of the cameron lineage, he had no choice, but to become painfully aware of the damage he could cause. you shared the likeness of a baby deer — naive, dainty, and a little too welcoming … much to your own detriment, at times.

so, rafe took it upon himself to take you under his wing, making sure that he always had you in his line of vision. i mean, if he didn’t look out for you, who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into? which is exactly why he settled for being your best friend in the whole world, as you like to say — that is, until you’d finally snap out of the pink tinted dreamland you seemed to live in, and realize that you were better off just being his — being rafe’s girl.

“y’wanna try some?” you hummed, your manicured hand holding out the wand of your new tube of dior gloss as you mushed your swollen lips together, puckering your now shimmery lips in the mirror as you adored your new lipgloss.

met with silence, you rolled your eyes as rafe remained stood tall and authoritative behind you, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the collar of his polo shirt, “c’mon, kid — don’t have time to play games,” he shrugged his shoulders, before nudging the side of your jaw with the side of his ringed finger.

to anyone who wasn’t aware of your unique dynamic with rafe — the sight of a young girl dressed in nothing, but a mesh bralette that displayed her hard nipples and tiny silk shorts that sucked up into her ass, a bit bent over a vanity with a much taller man’s tented crotch ghosting right behind the curve of her ass, would be pretty incriminating.

but, in your eyes, it was just you and rafey, your very best friend in the entire world.

leaning back onto the balls of your sore feet, you completely missed the way rafe took in the ripple of your asscheeks as you let out an entitled huff, “i don’t want to go golfing,” you mumble, your arms crossed firmly across your swelled tits as you send rafe a bratty frown in the mirror.

mocking your bratty behavior with an exaggerated pout, rafe lets out a feigned whimper, “aw, baby doesn’t wanna hang out with rafey anymore?”

shoving the gloss-coated wand into the tube, you toss it onto the vanity, your bouncy blown-out hair whipping against rafe’s chest as you push your weak palm into rafe’s hard torso, earning another condescending laugh from the blue-eyed man, “i don’t want to hang out with you, anymore,” you announce, eyes glazed with frustrated tears.

“y’sure? got lots of pretty girls who would love for me to be their best friend,” rafe cocks his head to the side, a knowing smirk tugging on his pink lips as he watches you carefully think about your next words.

with a hesitant nod, you sniffle, “i’m sure.”

“okay — i’ll miss you, princess,”

your doe eyes widened with genuine concern as rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your hair, before taking a few steps backwards from you, turning to reach for the handle of your bedroom door. he can’t leave — you were only kidding!

“stop! i was just kidding,” you panic, perky tits bouncing as you rush over to rafe who is biting back a cocky grin.

forcing a solemn expression, rafe gently raised a ringed hand to hold your jaw, “can’t joke like that, huh? almost made me get a new best friend, pretty girl,” rafe twists the knife, his stomach growing warm and fluttery as he watches you lightly bounce on your feet, before accepting your outstretched arms as he carries you back to your pillow and squishmallow-covered bed.

“sleep over?” you questioned sweetly.

“of course, kid.”

｡⋆୨୧˚

wet lip smacks and muffled moans filled the four walls of your bedroom as you laid semi-underneath a now shirtless rafe. one leg hooked over his hip as your hands cupped each side of his strained neck. your puffy lips were nearly raw and tingly from rafe’s constant suckling and nipping at your mouth. rafe’s hand kept a light grip on your throat as he kept you engrossed in the slippery kiss, tongues dancing together wildly as rafe fucked your mouth with his.

pushing out a sleepy whine, you said your delicate hand to rafe’s collarbone, gently pushing, “rafey — m’lips hurt,” your words were jumbled as rafe groaned into your mouth, his lips continuing their relentless assault.

your sloppy little makeout sessions with rafe were a common find when it came to spending a day with him, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it — i mean, he was your best friend forever, he would never steer you in the wrong direction.

shutting you up with a slip of his tongue inside of your mouth, rafe’s hand sliding to cup your cheek as you are quick to wraps your swollen lips around his slippery tongue, gently suckling the pink muscle. you continued sucking on his tongue for a few more minutes, your mixed spit shining on the corners of your mouths and messily smeared on your chins from wet lips.

sliding a calloused, ring-clad hand to cup your soft ass underneath the silk of your shorts, rafe patted two light slaps to your skin, earning a needy moan from you as your wrapped your slick lips around his tongue once more, in a sealing kiss, “sorry — y’taste good,” you mumbled, your sore lips pulled into a sorry little pout as rafe nods knowingly, gently pulling your head to lean against his chest.

rafe never missed the way you gazed up at him, your doll eyes sparkling with adoration and respect — you never judged him, and he appreciated that.

“s’okay, kid.” he responded, mushing your cherub cheeks as your lips remain in a silly smile.

you really had the bestest friend in the whole world!

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟐:𝟏𝟏𝐩𝐦

you slept at tannyhill every night now.

it was commonplace to see you making breakfast in the kitchen, by the pool with sarah or inside watching some silly movie with wheezie. that was only sometimes though, since all your time was usually spent with rafe.

he liked having you around at tannyhill all the time—he thought it was cute. you wait for him to get back like a little housewife, looking pretty and pampered and tan, like he wants.

he doesn’t like waking you up early when he’s leaving for the day. you used to set your alarm to get up and drink coffee with him but he’s started turning it off—you don’t have any reason to be up that early.

sweet and always compliant, you do as he says, sleeping in. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead in the morning before he leaves, day filled with meetings and business things that he doesn’t always tell you about in detail. you just know that he’s gone.

“stoppin’ by barry’s and then the club with kelce. we’re playing golf with-” you listen to rafe while he puts on his watch and his rings, but you drift off half way through. you feel the warm press of his lips on your skin and the sound of him saying goodbye.

you’re not sure when it happened—you used to get up early and get ready for the day, filling your summer days with friends at the beach and your books by the pool and never going more than an hour alone. but now that you’re with rafe, it’s so easy to sit around and wait for him. you don’t even want to see anyone, you just want the hours to pass until he’s back.

maybe it’s not healthy. you don’t really care much even if it’s not.

you fall back asleep, and wake up when the sun is pouring in between rafe’s dark curtains. you stretch and debate going downstairs to eat something, but after brushing your teeth you crawl back into rafe’s bed. the sheets smell like him and you stare awfully long at the pillow he sleeps on. shifting the pillow to lay on it, you fall back asleep, not waking up until you hear the door to his room open.

rubbing your eyes, you glance up, hoping it’s not ward looking for him since you’re just in one of rafe’s shirts and nothing else, but the shape in front of you gets closer and clearer.

“what’s this? been in bed all day, kid?” you yawn again.

“what time is it?” you question, laying back down against rafe’s pillow.

“two in the afternoon.” he comes and sits by the edge, stroking your hair while you melt into his touch. “got any plans to get up today?” you shake your head.

“your bed’s comfy. and it smells like you.”

“that’s cute, kid. gotta get up eventually.”

“you’ll have to make me.”

“that can be arranged.” you giggle, lifting yourself up to give rafe a hug, head resting on his shoulder. "but i like you like this. don't have to lift a finger, do'ya?"

“no," you agree, nodding your head. maybe you could get used to this. "missed you.”

“i’m back now. nothin’ to miss.”

“i still do.” rafe presses another kiss to your forehead, and you nestle in further. “i could fall asleep like this.”

“yeah, no.” in one motion he scoops you up, placing you on your feet. you yelp in surprise, fighting against his grip.

"i'm still tired! i thought you wanted to spoil me, this isn't spo-"

“shut up. c’mon, we’re gonna go shower.” that shuts you up right away. 

“okay,” you sing sweetly, suddenly compliant. 

“yeah, i knew you'd get out of bed for some dick. little freak.”

[pucksandpower]

F1 Secret Santa 2023 Summary

Lance to Fernando: a captain hat for his new yacht and a bottle of wine

Yuki to Lance: a beanie (or toque in Canadian)

Zhou to Yuki: a Chinese cookbook and an apron

Charles to Zhou: a (second) Bottass calendar that he tried to return to Charles only for Charles to give it back to him again

Fernando to Charles: a padel racket

Nico to Pierre: a tripod 😉

Esteban to Nico: a 🥱 mug

George to Esteban: a Spider-Man travel mug, carrying case, and neck pillow

Kevin to George: a Santa Hoptimist (Danish figurine)

Logan to Kevin: a “shhh … I’m watching racing with daddy” onesie and a book about the best road trips in the USA

Lando to Logan: a Miami Heat mini hoop and basketball

Pierre to Lando: the actual gift (a headcover with Lando’s face on it) didn’t arrive in time so an “OnlyPutts” golf marker as a placeholder

Oscar to Alex: customized golf balls

Daniel to Oscar: a koala t-shirt and Christmas candies (is it still Secret Santa if your Secret Santa is impatient and spoils that he is your Secret Santa before you can even open your gift?)

Checo to Daniel: limited edition tequila

Alex to Checo: a Williams teddy bear and kids clothing plus Alex Albon Athletics sneakers

Max to Valterri: “A Simply Lovely Look at the Butt in Art” (a book of those photos of Valterri overlaid on existing pieces of art)

Carlos to Max: a vintage arcade mini

Valterri to Carlos: chilli pepper swim briefs and chilli hot sauce

[marketing2011]

Discover Cool Kids Golf T-Shirts - Perfect for Young Golfers

Dress your young golfer in style with our kids' golf t-shirts. Designed for comfort and performance, ensures they look and feel great on the course. Explore now for the perfect fit

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Six - Danny Goes Racing

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.2K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Y/N picked Olivia up from her mother’s house on Sunday. She left Milo in the car as she ran up to the front door of the incredibly nice house and knocked. Patiently she waited for Olivia’s mother to open the door.

It took a good few minutes before the door opened. Olivia stood at the door, a bag on her back and a child size AlphaTauri hat on her head. “Hi, miss L/N!” She called, beaming wide. She looked back into the house and shouted a loud ‘goodbye’ before shutting the door. It was something Y/N would have done as a teenager, not a five year old.

“Olivia, are you sure your momma is okay with you just leaving like that?” She asked and Olivia nodded her head, quickly taking her hand.

Y/N walked Olivia back to the car. She climbed, sitting on the cushion’s Y/N had put down (because she didn’t have a spare car seat) and secured the buckle of the seat belt. Immediately Milo began talking to her as Y/N walked to the front seat and climbed in. She shot Daniel a quick text before driving the children back to her house.

The kids were excited, that was clear. They unbuckled themselves and jumped out of the car as soon as Y/N opened the door. Milo led Olivia up the path and the two of them waited by the front door. Y/N locked the car and followed the kids, unlocking the front door and letting them in.

Olivia and Milo ran into the living room and jumped onto the sofa. “Put on the race, momma!” Milo shouted as they settled back against the sofa cushions.

Y/N did just that. She turned on the TV and put on the race, allowing the kids to watch the last of the F2 race before the interviews for the F1 race began. She left them there while she got them both something to drink and put some snacks in a bowl for the both of them.

Before she left the kitchen, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Daniel once again. He hadn’t responded to her previous message, but he was busy, he was about to complete a Formula One race. Still, she sent him a good luck text and brought a drink in for the kids.

When Y/N returned with the snacks, the interviews before the race had already started. “That’s my uncle Christian,” said Olivia as an older man in a Red Bull shirt spoke to the camera. “My daddy used to work for him but then he moved to Renault and then McLaren and now he’s in AlphaTauri,” she said and Y/N found herself nodding along.

All she knew about Daniels career was that he was a Formula One driver. She didn’t know anything about teams and how it worked, so she hadn’t thought to ask. But Olivia wasn’t explaining it well. She wasn’t explaining in in great detail, but Y/N was still learning something.

Suddenly she shrieked. “Uncle Lando!” She shouted, pointing at the screen.

Olivia considered almost every driver that her dad had been teammates with to be her uncle. Her favourite uncle was her uncle Max, but she’d never tell the others that. She had her Uncle Max, Uncle Checo, Uncle Lando, Uncle Hulk (Nico Hukenberg), and Uncle Yuki as her dad’s current and ex teammates. But she also had her Uncle Christian, Uncle Zac and Andrea, uncle Pierre, Uncle Charles, Uncle Lewis, Uncle Nando and more. The entire grid was a family to her.

She told Milo and his momma all about her Uncle Lando as they interviewed him. They couldn’t hear what the man on the television was saying, but they happily listened to Olivia as she spoke. “He came to visit us once and took me to play crazy golf because my uncle Lando loves golf.”

And then Lance Stroll appeared on the screen. Olivia launched into a full on explanation into her Uncle Scotty and how he married her Uncle Lance’s sister, and then about how her Uncle Lance bought her a playhouse for their garden when she turned five.

For any driver that appeared on the screen Olivia told Y/N and Milo everything about them.

And then her father appeared on the screen. Milo and Olivia were both shouting, until Daniel started talking. He answered all of the interviewers’ questions, always wearing a smile on his face. He looked so damn happy to be there, Y/N realised as she watched him.

The interviewer went to move on, but Daniel stopped him. “Can I say something?” He asked, his eyes wide and that typical Daniel grin on his face, microphone still in his hands.

“Go for it,” the interviewer replied.

Daniel held his microphone up to his lips. “Hi Livvy, hi Milo!” He said and waved to the camera.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as the kids both shrieked, the two of them excited as ever. That was maybe the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her son. She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe he’d just said hello to him over the television. F

Daniel left the interview, seemingly skipping off. It wasn’t long before the race began and he was already in his AlphaTauri racing suit.

As the interviewer moved onto one last driver, Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the message

daniel riiiiiciaaaardoooo

thank you, milo's momma

She smiled down at her phone, threw it to the side, and watched as the adverts before the race started up.

The race began. Y/N and Milo had no idea what was was going on, but Olivia was more than happy to explain it to them. They didn't even have to ask and Olivia was telling them everything there was to know.

Y/N learnt that her eyes should have been following the number 3 car. She felt an immense amount of panic whenever two of the cars nearly collided.

Daniel spent the entire race in the midfield. When the two cars in front of him touched wheels and two of them went off the track, Y/N held onto her chest. Holy cow, how did anybody do this for a Jon? It was insane just how anxious she was feeling. The poor mothers of the drivers.

Milo was loving it. His eyes were glued to the screen for the entirety of the race.

As soon as the race was over, Y/N couldn't stop herself from texting Daniel about just how terrifying that race was to watch.

y/n (milo's momma)

Milo loved it, though

As soon as the text was sent Y/N got up to make the kids some dinner. Sausage and mash potato. It was a safe bet, something she hoped Olivia would enjoy.

After Dinner Y/N had to take Plivia back home. She didn't want to go, tried to hold onto the banisters to stop Y/N from taking her.

But she took her home, stood with her at the doors while she waited for her mother to open the door. "By Livvy," she said before she left. Olivia threw her arms around her before she trudged into her mothers house.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @stay1strongbeautiful @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[doodleswithangie]

"Eeny, meeny, miny... YOU."

Redraw of a comic I drew all the way back in 2014 (weirdly enough, around the time The Golf War aired, so this was weeks before Sock Opera came out!)

[Image Description: Comic of Bill Cipher, Dipper and Mabel Pines from "Gravity Falls." Alt text provided and copied below the cut. Scan of original comic below the cut. End ID]

Original Comic:

Copied Alt Text:

Page One:

Inside the grayed out attic, Bill possessing Mabel floats over Dipper, who shouts, "Mabel! Bill! Let her go!"

Bill taunts him, "Are you kidding? It's been a while since I've had a vessel. And this one smells like strawberries."

Page two:

Bill says, "There's almost nothing you can do to stop me. So I'm gonna bounce! Gotta bunch of things on my to-do list."

A stricken Dipper whispers, "No."

Bill turns and continues, "And a long overdue appointment to keep-"

"NO!" Dipper shouts.

Page three:

Dipper holds onto Mabel's shirt to keep Bill from leaving. "No wait!" he says. "Please. You said almost nothing. So there's gotta be something."

Page four:

Bill says, "Well... there is one thing."

Dipper says, "I'll do it. Just give Mabel back."

Bill grins as the room lights up in blue flame.

Page five:

In Dipper and Mabel's room, Stan is scanning Bill's page in the Journal. Mabel sees Dipper stir awake and runs to him, saying, "Dipper! We saw Bill jump into your head! Are you okay?"

Page six:

Dipper slowly opens his eyes, revealing yellow eyes with slit pupils, and says, "It's... It's been a while since I've had a vessel."

End Copied Alt Text

[rafeandonlyrafe]

breeding session

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, somnophilia, kind of dubcon?, established relationship (theyre married), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, breeding, pregnancy mentions

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe hums the ending of the song that was playing in the car as he enters the house, tossing his keys into the tray that catches all the junk upon entering your home. he toes his shoes off, eyes searching for you.

usually you'd run up to rafe the second you hear the door open, greeting him with a kiss and asking him how his day was. you've been married for almost a year, and still feel the same excitement every time you see him, the spark of exhilaration that he brings out in you.

“baby?” rafe calls softly as he moves through the house, not wanting to wake you if you decided to nap while he was out golfing. he knows you get so sleepy, almost always around the same time of day, and while you manage to power through the tiredness some days, most of the time you succumb and end up taking a nap so deep that you are near unwakeable.

rafe looks for you in the living room before heading up the stairs, smiling to himself when he sees you lying on the bed on top of the covers, legs curled up as you doze.

rafe doesn't bother to quiet his footsteps as he heads over to give you a kiss on the top of the head, smoothing his hand over your hair. he knows how hard it is to wake you up during these naps, so there's no way some noises from him would pull you from your slumber. sometimes he worries even a fire alarm wouldn't get you up.

rafe takes off his golf shirt to change into something new, keeping his eyes on you, your small body on his bed. he frowns at your flat stomach, covered by a soft dress that you like to wear around the house due to the warm temperatures in the outer banks. you've been trying to get pregnant for almost a month now, currently with no success. you and rafe had what you expected to be a long conversation about the right time to have kids, but turned out to be very short when you were on the exact same page.

rafe sighs as he moves towards the closet doors to toss his shirt in the hamper, again turning to look back at you as he unbuttons his pants, shoving them down his legs. rafe thinks he spots something, kicking the pants away as he moves to the bed to inspect closer.

he crawls from the bottom of the bed to where you are curled up, letting out a low moan when he flips the bottom of your dress up, the flowy fabric moving easily to reveal that you weren't wearing any panties underneath.

rafe leans back to get a better view as he places one hand on your ass, pulling it upward to reveal your cunt to him, which was hidden by your thighs.

rafe instantly starts to swell in his pants, his eyes glancing between your flat stomach that he feels should be swelled with his child already, and your delicate cunt, such a gorgeous soft peach color that it's nearly irresistible to him.

rafe pauses to think to himself. you've made it very clear that you want to be pregnant, and surely he would just be doing his husbandly duty if he fucked you right now, filling you up and letting his cum take while you slept peacefully.

rafe gets off the bed to take his underwear off, not touching his cock until he's back kneeling on the mattress. he plants his hand on your ass again, your pussy looking delectable as his free hand grips his dick, beginning to stroke gently. 

he moves along his length until his cock reaches full hardness, rubbing his thumb against your skin to calm you, but you don't even budge, even as rafe let's out low moans, his hips pushing forward into his hand, fucking his fist faster as he imagines being inside you once you are pregnant, well and truly his.

rafe let's go of his cock before he cums too soon. he never had a problem with bursting early before you, but something about your perfect little body, something about your sweet innocence that turns him on to such an extreme amount. 

rafe keeps one hand holding your thighs parted and uses his other to rub his fingers along your folds. he feels your wetness start to grow, your bodies response to the touch, even as your mind is still in dream land.

rafe takes one slender finger, gently pushing inside your entrance, his cock pulsing when he feels how tightly you are squeezing his digit. he twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit. rafe expects you to move from this, at least readjust a little, but you lay perfectly still, eyelids not even fluttering.

“fuck, such a perfect pussy.” rafe says to himself, constantly impressed by how wondrous you are. he adds a second finger to your cunt, knowing he would usually work you with one for longer, but you are so relaxed from being in a deep slumber that he knows the stretch isn't painful.

rafe pulls his fingers out, tongue greedily licking your juices up before returning to your pussy. rafe questions laying against the mattress and shoving his face between your thighs and spending however long it takes you to wake up with his mouth licking your folds and sucking on your clit, but the need to fill you up, to breed you, is simply too strong.

rafe scissors his fingers inside of you, watching as your pussy opens up to accommodate him. he licks over his hand again to taste you, even going back to your cunt to swipe his fingertips through your folds, needing even more of your juices on his tongue.

he takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head through your now slick folds, so warm from being squished in between your thighs while you napped. rafe presses against your entrance, moving slowly as to not wake you as he sinks his cock in.

you make your first noise since rafe came home, a soft little mewl as his cock bottoms out inside your cunt, but your eyes remain firmly closed.

rafe places both his hands on your hips, keeping you in the curled up position that he knows you love to sleep in as he begins to rock into you, not wanting to thrust too roughly pull you out of your nap.

rafe grunts when you squeeze your pussy around him subconsciously. he can feel that you are just getting even wetter, your body calling and craving him even as you are passed out.

he begins to move faster, but keeps himself from fully snapping his hips inside of you, hoping that allows you to remain at rest even while he gets himself closer to cumming.

rafe imagines you once you finally get pregnant, tummy swollen full and breasts heavy. he can't wait to make you a mom, to fulfill that dream of yours, and to raise the best kid. he knew the second he met you that you were the one for him, and he worked hard to get his life on track to meet your standards.

rafe moves a hand to your pussy, rubbing over your clit. he knows you won't be able to orgasm while sleeping, but he at least wants to make you feel good, hoping whatever he is doing is translating to what you're dreaming about.

rafe moves faster now that you've shown what you can sleep through, his cock moving at a blistering pace, leaving your cunt red instead of the delectable peach.

his cock swells inside of you, unable to hold back any longer. rafe can't help himself, looking down at you, his beautiful peaceful sleeping wife, about to get her cunt flooded without even knowing it.

rafe pushes his cock as deep in as if can go, pushing against your cervix as he releases all of the cum he possibly can, your cunt tightening around him, milking his cock clean as you squirm slightly for the first time, but manage to stay asleep.

rafe stays buried in you as he softens, not wanting to pull out yet and let any cum escape. once his breathing has returned to normal, rafe pulls out, his cock flopping down against his thigh.

he spreads your cheeks again, looking at your cunt as a dollop of his cum leaks out. he pushes it back in with his finger instantly, thrusting a few times to fuck it into you.

he flips the skirt back over your bum before getting off the bed and heading to the bathroom for a shower, smiling to himself as he feels like this was the time, this was the breeding session that would get you pregnant.

you wake up thirty minutes later, rafe still in the shower enjoying the hot water. you rub your eyes before stretching with a yawn, wondering why your cunt is so sticky.