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finelinefae · 11 days

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the game [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's desperate to play tennis and who better to coach her than her rival

word count: 6.7k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, jealous h, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals

a/n: this is the very first part of a new series that i am soooooo beyond excited to be writing !! it will most likely have 4/5 parts <333 enjoy !!!

. . .

Crestwood Academy was a prestigious boarding school with a mission to cultivate excellence in its students, many of whom went on to achieve great success in their respective fields. Nestled amidst rolling hills and lush greenery, it welcomed only the most accomplished families into its esteemed halls.

Y/N had attended Crestwood Academy since she was five, thanks to her father, who owned a country club and could afford the tuition. Her parents, strict and focused on success, were determined to give her the best education possible so that she could be the very best. Her face was always buried in a book or spending her days in the library, right up until the very last minute of its opening hours.

It was her final year at Crestwood Academy before graduation. Y/N had been set on passing all of her exams at the top of her class so had been working extra hard. She studied English, maths, all three sciences, Latin, French and History as well as tennis.

Y/N's parents had always urged her to pursue a career in the top industries. Despite her efforts to feign interest in that direction, her heart had always belonged to tennis ever since she first took up the sport at Crestwood.

She had competed plenty, winning all the academy trophies and medals. Her parents would visit whenever she competed in finals and congratulated her on winning but saw it as nothing but a hobby to participate in when she wasn’t studying.

However, Y/N couldn’t deny herself the rush of playing knowing she’d have to part with the sport once she graduated. The career path of becoming a doctor was already laid out for her by her parents but she felt destined to follow a different path.

Despite the fact she had applied to dozens of schools to study medicine, she still had one more option that had nothing to do with science at all.

Every year, the academies hosted their own version of a grand slam in which the winning player received a scholarship and three years' worth of training from one of the top tennis academies in the world. Y/N longed to be at the top with the greats and she knew that this competition was the only way she could get there.

For the most part, Y/N had been self-taught. She watched videos online and took notes from the Wimbledon matches she’d see on the television. Crestwood only had one sports coach who focused most of their time on the football team so if she was going to win the scholarship, she needed the very best.

She sat on the bleachers, her book open in front of her, but her attention was drawn to the man on the court. The player’s movements were fluid and powerful, each action deliberate and precise. Yet, it was another man who held her gaze—a figure with an impassive expression, focused solely on his player.

When the match was over, Y/N slammed her book shut and walked towards the court after the players shook hands. Her eyes looked down at the limp in his step as he walked towards the cooler to grab a water bottle.

It had been a while since she had last seen him. She remembered the proud look on his parent’s faces when he was pulled out of Crestwood eighteen months ago and went on to win a grand slam in Australia. She could still feel the intense jealousy that filled her as she watched the match on television whilst studying for her chemistry test that he was also supposed to sit had he stayed.

Now he was here, back to his roots and maybe it had been fate because what she was about to ask him would determine her own path in the tennis career she longed for.

His hair was slightly longer now, his brunette, touseled curls were swept to the side in a loose, dishevelled manner. He wore sunglasses to cover his eyes from the sunlight and a navy tracksuit paired with white vans.

Seeing him brought back the once competitive emotions she had whenever she’d see him strut about the courts every lunchtime but she’d have to suppress those emotions, especially for what she was about to ask him.

“Excuse me, Harry?” Y/N called out.

He took a water bottle from the cooler and flicked off the cap before holding it to his lips and gulping it down. Y/N waited, crossing her arms as she did. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.” Was the first thing he said.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was unexpected to know that he had been waiting to see her, “I didn’t know you were part of the furniture on these courts,” He smirks and Y/N’s jaw ticks. “And you still sit in the exact same spot on those bleachers, to what? Admire me?”

Y/N bristled at Harry's cocky remark, her irritation bubbling to the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone sharp. "I have better things to do than waste my time watching you play."

Harry chuckled, his smirk widening as he leaned against the cooler. "Is that so? Then what brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Come to get an autograph?”

Y/N squared her shoulders, determined not to let his arrogance get under her skin. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something," she replied, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Oh? And what might that be?" he inquired, his gaze piercing as he studied her intently.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage and suppressed her pride, "I want you to coach me," she blurted out, her words hanging in the air between them.

Harry made no effort to hide the surprise on his face but it quickly melted into a cocky smirk, “You want me to coach you? I thought you hated me?”

“I do,” She replies quickly. She’d hated him ever since he had humiliated her in a battle of the sexes tennis tournament when they were young despite the fact she had little chance of winning against him anyway. “But I don’t have to like you to recognise your talent and right now you're the best and only coach I can get if I’m going to win that scholarship,”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Your parents still want you to study medicine?” Something flickered in his eyes that Y/N couldn’t put her finger on.

Y/N wasn’t going to give him an answer even though it was obvious, “This is the only chance I get to escape it,” She mutters, “I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

He glanced around before taking a step forward. She was tempted to step back at the same time but she didn’t want to seem intimidated by him so stood her ground. From this proximity, she noticed how much taller he was compared to her - almost an entire foot.

“What’s in it for me?” He asked.

Y/N knew he’d ask which was why she spent so much time figuring out what she could tell him to make it worthwhile. “I know about your injury,” She says and he stills.

“Everyone knows about my injury.” He grumbles.

It had been a spectacle in the world of tennis. The new grand slam winner loses out on his second after a fatal injury at the French Open. Y/N remembered seeing him rolling on the ground, holding onto his leg as paramedics ran onto the court to aid him.

“People think you’re a one-hit wonder since you’re out for the season,” His jaw clenched as she spoke, “But if you coach me and get me to win, I guarantee you’ll be out on the court again - back where you belong,”

“You think an academy league game can get my back onto the court?”

“No, but it's a start and maybe I’ll be competing alongside you the next time you’re playing.”

There was a moment of silence as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze searching hers for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, he let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he relented, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want me to coach you? Prove you’re worth coaching.”

He walked over to the barrel of tennis rackets and picked one up. Y/N narrowed her eyes, remembering the last time they had played against each other and how embarrassed she was afterwards.

“But you’re-”

“One game won’t hurt,” He said before she could finish.

She followed, her steps purposeful as she reached for a racket, flipping it over in her hands as she strode to the other end of the court. Despite being clad in her school uniform—a pleated skirt, white shirt with the school crest, and loafers that threatened to slide off her feet—she was determined to prove herself. She'd show him she was worth his time, that she was a far better tennis player than he gave her credit for.

As they took their positions on opposite ends of the court, the tension between them crackled in the air. Y/N gripped her racket tightly, her focus sharp as she prepared to face off against Harry once again.

The first serve sliced through the air, the sound echoing as the ball hurtled towards Y/N. She moved with fluidly, her muscles tensing as she returned the serve.

Harry's response was swift, his movements confident as he returned the ball with a well-placed shot that left Y/N scrambling to keep up. Even with his injury, he still held the precision of a professional. But she refused to back down, her determination driving her to match him shot for shot, rally after rally.

The game intensified as they traded blows, each point reflecting their skills and determination. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep pace with Harry, her mind focused solely on the ball. Both Y/N and Harry vocally exerted their energy through grunts and cries as they hit the ball with all their energy.

Despite her efforts, Harry seemed to anticipate her every move. But Y/N refused to be outdone, drawing on every ounce of strength and skill as she fought to gain the upper hand.

As the game progressed, Harry's skill and experience began to overthrow her. His shots were close to perfect and strategic, leaving Y/N struggling to keep up. Despite her determination, she found herself falling behind as Harry continued to dominate the match.

In the end, it was Harry who emerged victorious, his final shot landing just beyond Y/N's reach with a satisfying thud. As the ball bounced out of the court, Y/N knew that she had been outplayed.

She rested her hands on her knees, hunched over as she tried to regain her breath. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d lost despite the fact she was at a disadvantage anyway.

Harry’s shadow fell over her but she refused to look up just yet. He spoke anyway, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you,” He spoke, holding a cold water bottle in front of her face.

She took it, the plastic crackling under her fingers, “You can just say you’re not going to do it,” She mumbled, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of water.

“I’ll coach you,” He says, “Meet me here at 6 pm tomorrow.”

Y/N finally looked up, her mouth parted, only to find his back facing her as he walked away from the courts.

. . .

Harry had no idea what he had agreed to in coaching Y/N at tennis.

He sat in his luxurious apartment ten minutes away from Crestwood Academy, surrounded by furniture wrapped in plastic or still in cardboard boxes.

He sat on the couch with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The TV was playing quietly in front of him but his mind was on the girl he had spent the majority of his life competing with.

She had grown since the last time he had seen her before he graduated and left the country to compete in the Australian Open. Her long, tanned legs were on show beneath the grey school skirt she had been wearing. He couldn’t seem to get the image of the visible muscles in her calves out of his mind as she moved across the court to hit the ball during their impromptu tennis match.

Despite their personal differences, Harry couldn't resist her. There was an undeniable thrill in riling her up, in watching her reactions to the smallest digs. They had once been friends, back when Y/N would trail after him on the playground, eager to understand how to hit a ball with a tennis racket. But as she began competing in school competitions, she quickly learned that beating him was an impossible feat.

He wasn’t surprised to see her watching him on the court today, in fact, it amused him. Whether she liked it or not, he would always look out in the bleachers for her whenever he’d play during his time at the academy. Her reactions were what kept him going, some might even say made him better.

But, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was surprised to see her so brazenly asking him to coach her. He could tell by her reaction that it was killing her inside, to be coached by him when all she’d done was pick apart his technique, but it was clear she was desperate and Harry knew it was because of her parents.

Harry had had his fair dose of strict parentage. When he was told he could no longer play tennis for the season, his parents shipped him straight back to Crestwood to finish his final year since he never actually graduated.

He loathed them for it, barely saying a word to them as they paid the rent in cash for his apartment and left him with boxes to unpack on his own. He knew they were disappointed in him despite the fact the injury was no fault of his own, they could barely look at him as they left, closing the door behind them.

It was embarrassing. How could he have gone from being at the top of his game to the very bottom? Now he was back in the place he had turned his back on, feeling like he was back to square one all over again.

Harry’s thoughts were broken by the sound of his phone ringing. The name of his best friend since he was born lit up the screen.

“What?” Harry answered the call, his train of thought forming a particular level of intolerance in him.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” Mitch replied along with the sound of loud chattering in the background because he always had to be somewhere with someone.

“Sorry,” Harry huffed, “Long day.”

“Already? You’ve not even started classes yet,” Mitch chuckled.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry hadn’t even begun thinking about being back in classrooms and having to put up with kids his age berating him with questions he didn’t want to answer. Tomorrow would be his first day back and he was dreading it.

“C’mon now, don’t be too glum about it, haven’t you missed me?”

“No,” Harry lied.

“I know you well enough now to know when you’re lying.” Mitch laughed down the phone.

A hint of a smile grazed Harry’s lips, "Whatever," he replied, his tone gruff but lacking conviction. Despite his attempt to feign disinterest, a part of him couldn't deny the truth in Mitch's words. There had been many moments he had experienced after leaving school when he missed the company of people his own age. Everyone around him was older than he was and spoke to him as though he was some prized trophy that needed to be handled with caution. He’d spend evenings by the pool by himself, watching the sunset and wishing his friends were there to celebrate his win with him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mitch teased, “I know the boys will be happy to have y’ back and I can introduce you to Sarah. I think Molly Brown still has a thing for you as well by the way, talks about you all the fuckin’ time.” Harry listened to his friend ramble about all the things he had missed in the last year or so but his mind seemed to travel elsewhere.

His eyes wandered around the room, his ear still pressed to his phone, until they landed on an open box with a picture frame resting on top. He recognized the photo immediately, even without picking it up, because he had kept it hidden in his old dorm desk. In the picture, a group of eight students—four boys and four girls—smiled at the camera, with Harry standing at the back and Y/N right beside him.

. . .

Y/N slammed the door of her locker shut after pulling out her workbooks for her next class. Students bustled down the hallways of Crestwood Academy, wearing their navy blazers and uniform for another week of school.

“Have you seen him yet?” Sarah, Y/N’s best friend, came out of nowhere and stood in front of her.

“Seen who?” Y/N remained indifferent even though she knew who Sarah was referring to.

Everyone had been talking about Harry since she had walked into school from her dorm room this morning. It was the main topic of conversation, everyone’s eyes darting around the hallways to try and find him.

“You know,” Sarah nudged her, “The boy you’ve spent most of your life in a one-sided rivalry with?”

“One-sided? It’s a mutual hatred,” Y/N argued.

Sarah gave her a look before continuing, “I texted Mitch twenty minutes ago but he hasn’t replied. I know I’ve met Harry before but this is the first time I’ll be meeting him as Mitch’s girlfriend and I don’t want it to change anything.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Sarah, just because he’s the winner of a grand slam doesn’t make his opinion of you any more important. Whether Harry likes you or not, everyone knows you and Mitch are perfect for each other.”

Y/N remembered the first time her friend had told her she was seeing Mitch. He had taken her out to dinner a few times and Sarah had come back to their shared dorm swooning and unable to stop herself from rambling the rest of the night about how romantic and funny he was.

Y/N had never experienced anything like that in her life, too busy focusing on tennis and academia to find herself in relationships, but she was happy her best friend was happy and that was all that mattered to her.

“I know but he’s important to Mitch. They’ve been best friends since infants and… that’s not all I’m worried about,” Sarah looked at Y/N pointedly.

“What?”

“Now that Mitch and I are together, that means we’ll be spending more time around each other which also means…” Sarah didn’t have to finish her sentence for Y/N to understand what she was trying to get at.

“Oh n-no! No way! Sarah, are you being serious right now?” Y/N whined, “You want me to get along with Harry just because you’re dating his best friend?”

“You don’t have to but it would be nice if you did,” Her voice trailed off at the end, her eyes looking at her pleadingly, “I’m not asking you to be best friends, I’m just asking you not to chew his head off when we’re all in the same room together.”

Y/N wanted to argue and tell her she wouldn’t be able to chew his head off anyway because she needed him to coach her for the scholarship but an arm slid around Sarah’s waist and interrupted their conversation.

Sarah grinned, turning to look up at her boyfriend who was now standing beside her, “Hey babe,” Mitch smiled.

“You’re here,” Sarah craned her neck to kiss his lips, “I texted you forever ago and you never replied.

Mitch scoffed, “It was twenty minutes ago and I didn’t have time to check my phone, too busy dragging this one through the front gates.”

Out of the corner of Y/N's eye, another figure appeared. She didn’t have to look to see who it was, the sudden surge of annoyance within her already gave them away. Her head tilted to the left to look up and see Harry.

He was wearing his school uniform, the same way he always did before he left for Australia. His shirt was untucked, and the top button was undone revealing a gold chain and a white vest underneath, his grey trousers were ironed with not a crinkle in sight and his navy blazer hung casually behind him, hooked by his middle finger.

Y/N’s eyes shifted behind him to find people whispering to each other and groups of girls giggling as they walked past. It was nothing new to see girls getting riled up over him but it had become more intensified now that he had gone abroad and made a name for himself. Despite his injury preventing him from playing, Y/N was certain that even if Harry had lost every game and embarrassed himself on live television, people would still adore him.

“Hey Harry,” Sarah offered a kind smile.

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again. Glad to know Mitch was in good hands whilst I was away,” Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to Y/N.

“Only the very best,” Mitch pulled Sarah into his side before motioning to Y/N, “You remember Sarah’s best friend Y/N right?”

“Hmmm, aren’t you the one who lost the Junior tennis competition to me a few years ago?” Harry smirked.

Y/N's jaw clenched, but she managed to force a smile. "I could be, but aren’t you the one who they recorded rolling around on the floor like a big baby at the French Open last year?" Her retort was sharp, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Y/N felt a sense of satisfaction at having gotten such a reaction from him. "Welcome back to Crestwood," she added, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Mitch and Sarah exchanged weary glances, sensing the tension between Y/N and Harry.

"Quite a welcome. I’ve already been asked to coach someone and I’ve only been back a week," Harry remarked, his gaze still fixed on Y/N, who met his stare with a glare of her own.

"You have?" Mitch frowned, his confusion evident.

"Who?" Sarah asked, equally perplexed.

Harry's eyes remained locked on Y/N, giving them their answer. "You asked him to coach you?" Sarah questioned her confusion mirroring Mitch's.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, "Yeah, I did," she admitted reluctantly, her gaze flickering briefly to Harry before returning to Mitch and Sarah.

"Why would you ask him to coach you?" Sarah asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, “You argue all the time,”

Y/N hesitated, “I need to win the scholarship to the tennis academy in London and Harry’s the only person here who knows how to play the game.”

“Glad to know I was the pick of the bunch,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I thought you were applying to go to UCL?” Sarah frowned.

“I was but you know how much the game means to me and my parents refuse to believe it’s more than just a hobby. This is the only chance I’ll get to prove them wrong and the only option to get me out of studying medicine.” Y/N explained.

Sarah’s eyes softened, she too was no stranger to how strict Y/N’s parents could be. “Which is why she needs me,” Y/N felt the weight of his arm rest across her shoulders, “Right, love?”

Y/N spun around to face Harry, eyes sharp, “Don’t call me that,” She hissed, seeing the satisfied grin on his face.

He shrugged, “But I always call you that,”

Ever since they were teenagers, when the rivalry first began, Harry had opted to calling Y/N ‘love’ knowing how much it riled her up. To some, it was a term of endearment but in the world of tennis the word ‘love’ meant one thing.

‘Nil, ‘Zero’, ‘Loser’.

Y/N hated the way he spoke it too - accentuating each letter of the word to drag it out for as long as he could just to annoy her further.

She stepped forward, “Call me that one more time,” She threatened.

“Or what?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Guys seriously, break it up,” Sarah intervened, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting along if you’re going to be spending more time together.”

Y/N hated the thought of it but knew she was right. If she wanted Harry to coach her, she couldn’t go around screwing things up by arguing with him. If he was going to coach her at the sport, she’d have to coach herself in controlling her attitude around him.

“C’mon Sarah, let’s go to class,” Y/N hooked arms with her best friend, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“Oh okay, bye Mitch.” Sarah kissed her boyfriend before she was dragged down the hallway in a hurry.

Harry watched as Y/N practically sprinted down the hallway with Sarah in tow. He felt the need to call out of her for one last dig just so she would turn around and he’d see her face before she rounded the corner, “See you on the courts, love.” He called down to her.

As he had hoped, Y/N’s head whipped around to glare at him along with her middle finger, “Asshole!” She called back.

Harry chuckled to himself, “That face,” he murmured.

Mitch placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “You’ve got it in for yourself with that one, lad.” Mitch said.

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, his eyes still on the place he’d last seen Y/N.

Maybe returning to Crestwood wouldn’t be so bad after all.

. . .

With Harry back, Y/N had suspected the day would be a drag with everyone constantly bringing him up in every conversation, but the first half of the day had gone well. Y/N was easily used to her classes by now and was still top of the class in all of them.

During lunch period, Y/N always sat with Sarah in the library where they’d catch up on what they missed out on each other’s lives or study during exam season. It was nice to have some reprieve during the school hours and whenever she was with Sarah, Y/N could talk for hours and hours.

Now that Sarah was dating Mitch, Y/N and Sarah would spend their lunch with his friends in the lunch hall. Y/N didn’t mind it so much having grown used to being around Mitch’s friends despite their loud and boisterous personalities.

However, today she was dreading the fact that now her lunchtimes would also include being around the person she wanted to spend as little amount of time with as possible.

“Can’t we just eat in the library today? Please?” Y/N pulled on the sleeve of her best friend's blazer as she begged her to turn back in the direction of the library. She could already picture Harry’s annoying smirk the closer they got to the entrance of the lunch hall.

“Y/N you’re being dramatic. It’s just an hour, I’m sure you can survive being around him that long.” Sarah continued to tug her down the hallway.

“Sarah I already have to spend enough time as it is,” Now that she asked him to be her coach. The more the day went by the more she was starting to regret her decision.

Sarah spun on her heel, “Think of this as practice then,” Her eyes looked past Y/N’s shoulder, “Look, there they are,” She moved past her and beelined towards their table where Y/N saw Mitch, Jake and Adam already sitting along with that head of brunette curls that Y/N just wanted to tear out every time she saw him.

Sighing, she followed Sarah and approached the table responding to everyone’s friendly greetings until she got to Harry, “You’re in my seat,” She spoke after realising all the seats were taken.

Harry didn’t bother to look around, that stupid grin plastered to his face when he looked up at her, “Am I?”

Y/N gritted her teeth, “Yes,”

“Hmm,” He swivelled around to look at the back of the chair, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

A wave of chuckles rippled around the table but Y/N had yet to find the amusement in it. “She does always sit there, H.” Mitch chuckles, “Just grab another chair from a different table.”

Harry leant back against the seat and crossed one leg over his thigh, “But I quite like this seat.”

“I’m not moving until you get out of my seat,” Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to give in to him.

“Well you’re going to be stood up for a long time and y’ need those legs for later,” Harry smirked, “Or you could just sit here,” He unfolded his legs and motioned towards his lap, “Still your seat.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched but before she could respond, Adam chuckled and stood up, “Here,” He picked another chair up from an empty table and set it down next to him, “Y’ can sit here Y/N.”

She was tempted to refuse and continue to nag Harry for the rest of lunch but decided against it, not wanting to waste her energy on him. Her eyes softened at Adam’s kindness, “Thanks, Adam.” She sat beside him.

Harry’s smirk seemed to falter when Y/N sat down, watching as Adam looked at Y/N even as she turned to face the others.

“Is that Molly Brown looking at y’ again Harry?” Jake, who Y/N considered the loudest one of Mitch’s friends, leant over the table to speak lowly to Harry even though it was impossible for him to ever be so quiet.

Harry forced himself to look away from Adam before he burnt holes into him. “She’s been after him since fifth year,” Mitch chuckled.

“Y’ think you’ll let her have it this year, H?” Jake takes a spoonful of his lunch and swallows it down.

“Have what?” Sarah frowned, confused.

“Nothing you need to know about, babe,” Mitch replies, opening her waterbottle for her after she silently handed it to him.

“I’ve never been interested in Molly,” Harry quickly replies but his ears prick when he hears Y/N laughing quietly with Adam.

“Mind if I take my chances then?” Jake asks, “I’ve always wanted to date a cheerleader,”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry shakes him off, “What about you Adam?” He gets the attention from both Y/N and Adam as they look up, “Don’t you have a thing for Molly?”

Adam furrows his brows, “Molly Brown? Maybe in like third year,” He chuckles, “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment.”

Harry wants to laugh in his face, “Y’ sure about that?”

Adam frowns but Y/N quickly interrupts them, “People are allowed to have other interests you know.”

Harry feels that rush of excitement when she speaks run through his body, “Is this a touchy subject for you?”

Y/N scowls, “No, I’m just saying Adam doesn’t need to be interested in girl’s all the time.”

“Well maybe Adam can speak for himself,” Harry quips.

“Lord save me,” Jake mumbles and Sarah laughs.

“Well what about you? Have you managed to sink your fangs into anyone?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N gapes, “I’ve dated plenty of people,”

The image unsettles Harry but he takes the opportunity to tease Y/N further. "Plenty of people, huh?" he echoes.

Y/N's cheeks flush slightly, "I mean... well, not plenty, but a few," she stammers.

But Harry doesn't let up, "Oh, really?" he presses, "Care to share? I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the few men who you’ve tempted."

Y/N shoots him a glare, knowing full well that Harry was onto her. "I... uh, well," she stumbles over her words, searching for a way to change the subject.

But before she can respond, Adam jumps in. "Come on, Harry, give her a break," he glowers.

“Yeah, Y/N’s just waiting for the right guy and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Sarah pipes in, always one to have her best friend’s back.

Harry raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Adam before settling on Y/N, who shifts uncomfortably. Sensing the tension, Mitch swiftly changes the subject to something else.

. . .

After lunch, Y/N made her way to her next class with Adam walking alongside her. Out of all of Mitch’s friends, she got on the most with Adam to the point where Sarah was constantly pestering her over considering a date with him but Y/N didn’t see him as any more than a good friend. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part, excelling in the arts and playing bass guitar in a band on weekends. Y/N enjoyed the calmness he brought to the group especially with the others being so loud all the time.

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding the strap of his backpack in one hand as it hung over his right shoulder.

“What do I think about what?” Y/N frowned.

“You know, Harry being back. I know you two didn’t always get along,” He explained.

Y/N scoffed, “If it weren’t for the fact he’s coaching me for the Academy Slam, I would be praying to whatever God that’d listen to send him back to Australia,” Which was also the furthest possible country he could be away from her.

Adam chuckled, “He told us earlier he’d be coaching you,”

Y/N scowled, “I bet he couldn’t get enough of it,”

“Actually he seemed pretty happy about it. We haven’t seen him that happy since he got back from Australia.”

“Really? Maybe that injury did something to his head,”

“What makes you hate him so much anyway?” Adam asked.

Y/N sighed. It was a question she heard often but never had a solid answer for. She couldn't quite explain why she disliked Harry so much. Maybe it was because he had things she wanted, and jealousy often turned into hatred. But there was something more, something she couldn't quite pin down.

Despite her dislike, Y/N went to all of Harry's matches, and she watched them on TV too. Even when she tried to stay in her room, her legs seemed to move on their own, taking her to the courts to watch him play. She hated that part of her rooted for him, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Harry had been the first person to teach her how to play and she felt some sense of loyalty to that but she had no perfect answer even though she wished for one.

“His face annoys me,” Y/N says.

“That’s it?” Adam snickers.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “We’ve always had this rivalry that stemmed out of nowhere but I can’t even remember how it started.”

“You don’t have feelings for him do you?” The question came out of nowhere and took Y/N completely off-guard.

"What? No!" Y/N's response came out a little too quickly, and she hoped her cheeks hadn't betrayed her by turning red.

Adam shrugged. "Just making sure," he said casually. "You know, some people get them mixed up—love and hate."

Y/N furrowed her brow, genuinely puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

"Well, they're both intense emotions, aren't they?" He mused. "And sometimes, when you feel strongly about someone, whether it's love or hate, it can blur the lines between the two."

Y/N pondered his words, a sense of unease settling in her stomach, "No way," she replied firmly, shaking her head. "I may not like him, but there's definitely no love there."

Adam chuckled, sensing her defensiveness. "Alright, that’s good," he said with a grin.

Y/N felt a hint of a smile on her lips, “What does that mean? That’s good?”

Adam shrugged, still smiling, “Jus’ saying,” He spoke and Y/N laughed.

Her gaze flicked from Adam's to Harry, who stood in the hallway with Molly Brown, her brunette waves tied up in the perfect, slicked back ponytail. Hoping to slip by unnoticed, she quickened her pace, but it was too late. Harry's eyes locked onto hers, then shifted to Adam. She caught the subtle twitch of his jaw before he pushed off the wall, ignoring Molly, and strode toward them.

Adam must not have noticed Harry coming towards them because he quickly bid goodbye so he could rush to his literature class. Y/N picked up her pace but Harry was already by her side, “Do you like him?” Harry asked.

“Who Adam? Well let’s see, he’s nice and smart and doesn’t feel the need to open his mouth every five seconds unlike some people I know, so yeah I do like him.”

Harry scoffed, “He’s a little boring don’t you think?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry's comment, a retort already forming on her lips. "Nice of you to say that about your own best friend," she quipped. "Makes me wonder what you say about me."

Before she could say anything more, she gasped in surprise as Harry tugged on her hand and swiftly spun her around until her back was against the row of lockers. Her heart raced as he stepped forward, blocking her in, and dipped his head closer to hers.

"I think we need some ground rules for this whole coaching thing," Harry murmured, his voice low. "If you're planning on winning, I recommend using your time more wisely instead of wasting it on nice boys."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. "Is that a rule or are you asking me not to date anyone?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Both," Harry replied, his tone unwavering.

Her mind raced, unsure how to respond, "What about you then?" she countered.

"Is that a personal request?" Harry's smirk widened, his gaze locking onto hers. "Because I'm the coach, and I set the ground rules so anything you ask me to do is because you want me to do it."

Y/N's heart pounded louder in her ears as Harry's proximity sent heat coursing through her, "It's only fair," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Harry chuckled softly. "Fine, if it makes you happy. But I’m not interested in dating nice girls or boys anyway," he remarked with a smirk.

Y/N swallowed, her curiosity piqued. "What are you interested in?"

He smirked, "The game," he replied cryptically.

With that, he moved away from her, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he turned and walked down the hallway, “See you tonight, love.” He called back.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Y/N stood there, stunned and unable to move. She was grateful that no one had witnessed the exchange as she pulled out her compact, trying to compose herself and hide the flush of embarrassment that coloured her cheeks.

As she hurried to class, already five minutes late, Y/N couldn't shake the intensity of her encounter with Harry. Sitting by the window, her mind wandered as the teacher lectured the class, her gaze drifting to the courts outside where she'd soon be training with him this evening.

This coach-student dynamic had unlocked a new territory between them, something unpredictable that Y/N had no choice but to delve into for the months ahead.

Yet, it was her only choice. Harry was the only way she could win and she’d push through whatever feelings she had to get what she wanted.

She’d play the game, just as he wanted her to.

874 notes · View notes

ravenslvt · 2 months

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Hi! I saw that you're taking requests, so is it okay if I ask for a spoiled city girl! Reader x country boy! Leon?

Reader's father sent reader to spend the rest of the year at her grandparents because he's had enough tolerating her. Eversince she arrived, yeah, the whole town hated her alright. Her grandparents made her do errands and shit and she'd complain and do it lazily.

Leon on the other hand- who's been hearing rumors about this girl, didn't think that she was that bad until he encountered her himself. And hell, she was way worse that bad.

Possible virgin, kinda innocent (only when it comes to ykyk) reader and brat tamer Leon?

Ignore if you're not comfortable with the idea.

🎀 cowboy!leon s kennedy x f!innocent reader 🎀

cw: smut, implied virgin reader, brat taming, sort of hate sex, p in v, oral m! recieving, v fingering, degrating, edging, light spanking

of course there was no cell service in this shithole. you groaned, falling back onto the white sheets of the squeaky bed of the guest bedroom in your grandparents house.

you had taken a gap year off of college, wanting a break and hoping to ‘find yourself’, but you just got unmotivated. your father asked you for months to find a job in the city, but you’d talk your way out of it everytime. of course, enough was enough and when the time came, he had talked to his own parents and decided to send you over to a small little farm town where they retired to, hoping to shape you up a bit. they owned a quaint farm with chickens, sheep, pigs, all a cute little older couple could ask for.

but it was your own personal hell. having to feed, clean, and even pick up after the smelly animals. at least some of them were cute. no technology to ease your mind. it didn’t help your grandparents made you drive their shitty little red truck into town once a week to get supplies, since you were so ‘nimble’ compared to them. to say the least, the whole town was not fond of a bratty city girl storming irritatingly around. refusing to do work, and even when you did, you just half assed it to get it over with.

the local townies and shop workers alike always stared when you’d walk through town with your cute little purse and skirt that rode up your thighs. it was a hot town, what else were you supposed to wear? older women having to slap their husbands when they oogled for too long at the young woman walking into the supply store. that was until you’d start an argument with another customer. they’d either be judging you or too scared to say a word. sometimes both.

in one instance, there was only one stack of bird feed left, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna be the one taking it back to the farm. that was until a prudish older lady grabbed it at the same time as you. your eyes met, challenging each-other. she put on a fake smile. “oh sorry sweetie! need this food for my little chickies at home.” her high pitched voice irritated your head. “oh that’s unfortunate, i need it for the same reason. so if you could take your wrinkley little fingers off of it that would be great.” you yanked it from her hands before she gasped.

“what a disrespectful young lady…” she mumbled, turning around to the door of the door, looking down at her hands as she left. you mumbled a quick curse at her before walking up to the register to pay. the store clerk looked a little nervous, so he rang you up in silence in fear of you lashing out at him.

this was just one of the many incidents since you got sent here.

at least you’d found new hobbies. you started going to the small library whenever you were sent into town. there wasn’t many choices, but that along with a few of your grandma’s books from her collection, you were somewhat less bored. that and you took up sketching. sure this place was boring as fuck, but you couldn’t deny that the scenery was pretty beautiful.

it’s been almost a month since you’ve been here. you silently lounged in the room you’d been staying in, reading some god awful romance novel. you heard your grandma call your name from downstairs. you sigh before getting up. “what?” you yell back, annoyed you got interrupted reading your newly picked up book. she didn’t respond, another tindge of annoyance reaching your skull.

as you walk down the creaky wooden steps, noticing the front door open to find the older woman on the front porch. you heard a deep voice chuckling from outside. walking out, you were greeted with a handsome young man. he only looked two or three years older than you, but he was tall and had a good frame. seems like doing work on a farm for years really builds up muscle. the wrinkled woman calls your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“um, what can i help you with?” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. the man gives you a smile before holding out his hand for you to shake, lowering his dark grey hat to reveal some of his dirty blonde hair underneath. “i’ve heard a lot about you miss, names leon.” his large hand extends towards you. you just eye it and roll your eyes. “hi? can i go now, nana?” you plead to the woman. she just sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder. “pop and i gotta go into town for a couple days for this chicken auction he’s been wantin’ to go to. our friendly neighbor here offered to help show you around the farm a bit. teach you a few things” she eyes you sternly.

“teach me things? i’m not twelve. i can handle myself” you retort, glaring at the tall man. he just chuckles. he had heard from around town you were feisty, but it was even better to see in person. he rests his hands firmly on his hips.

“promise i won’t get in your way, darlin’. we’re doin’ some renovations on my own house a few miles down the road. your kind grandmother here offered to let me stay in the guest house while they’re gone.” he smiles assuringly. you were annoyed. you had already spent the last thirty seconds planning on sunbathing or sitting in your room, free of any work on the farm.

“i just don’t think this is very necessary. surely you can afford a hotel?” you retort back. your grandma gives you a light smack on the back of your head. “sorry ‘bout her. not from here” she smiles kindly at the young man. you just pout. “yeah, thank god” you mumble, causing you to get another light smack.

“oh it’s no trouble at all. got myself a little cousin back home that’s a bit of a brat too.” he comments, his eyes never leaving yours. your face flushes. “excuse me? a brat? fuck off dude-“ you start. “language!” she scolds you. you mumble a small apology to her while still glaring daggers at leon.

leon just stands there, entertained by your little outbursts. he could tell you really did not enjoy being here, but he was ready to fix that. his gaze shifts down to your attire, you clearly didn't pack for working on a farm. always in cute little outfits that you'd always wear back in the city.

your grandma changed the subject, asking leon a few questions about his family and his own farm. you were lost in your own thoughts. at least you'd be stuck with a hot farmer instead of some old creep. maybe you could just fake flirt with him to get him to do all your chores for you. that should work, right?

after a few treacherous minutes of standing on the badly painted white porch, you said your goodbyes. leon gives your grandmother another respectful handshake and he just tips his hat at you while you just stare, giving a tiny wave before storming back inside.

about two days later you said your goodbyes to your grandparents, they gave you some hugs and kept repeating the list of chores they'd tasked you with. feed the chickens, take out the eggs, you really just blocked out their words from entering your head. you just smiled and nodded, waving at them as they drove off the property.

you gave a sigh of relief, leon wouldn't be here for another few hours so you thought you'd have some 'me' time. taking a long hot bath (your grandparents always got mad when you used up too much hot water), reading your romance novel while relaxing in the warm water. your cheeks flushed at a certain scene in the book. you didn't expect the library to carry a literal smut book. the main male character in the novel was going down on the pretty girl, the writing made your stomach churn in arousal. you'd never read anything so... descriptive before.

right before you could turn to the next page when things were getting more hot and heavy, there was a heavy knock on the door. you jerk up from your laying down position in the bath and sigh, leon was early. you lay your book upside down so you wouldn't loose your place, wrapping a small towel around your figure before fully stepping out, draining the bath. another knock and a familiar voice calling your name. "you home?" he calls. "yeah, hold on!" you scurry around, cursing yourself for not laying out clothes beforehand.

you carefully step downstairs and opening the front door, peeking out. leon had a duffel bag with him with his things in it. "um, yeah?" you say, trying to hide your toweled figure behind the door. he smiles. "just need the key to the guest house, darlin." oh right. you nod, grabbing the key hanging near the door and hand it to him, your fingers brushing slightly, making your cheeks heat up. before he could open his mouth to speak, you shut the door on him unremorsefully. "thanks." he chuckles out, turning to make the walk to the guest house about a hundred feet away from the main house. and of course you were the one who had to clean it up before he got here.

after putting on your favorite outfit and boots, you make your way back downstairs for some water. sipping from the clear glass cup, you notice leon outside the window. he was already getting familiar with the animals. he looked good in his light blue button up shirt, it really brought out his eyes. the way he had rolled up his sleeves so his veiny arms were on display. he was squatted down next to the new baby sheep and was petting her. you pouted, she didn’t even let you pet her. you sigh, placing your glass down before making your way outside.

leon’s head perks up as he notices you walking twords him. he gives you a charming smile, standing up from the baby sheep. you speak first. “she lets you pet her? everytime i come near she yells at me.” you cross your arms at the man. he looks back down at the small animal who gave you an angry look, running off somewhere. “you gotta' know how to approach em’. plus they sense your vibes” he adds, his eyes back on you.

“my vibes, huh? what’s that supposed to mean, mister?” your eyes squint at him, a hint of irritation in your eye. he doesn’t feed into your attitude. “leon” he corrects you.

“leon” you repeat. the way his name sounded rolling off your tounge made his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“now-“ he starts, grabbing a nearby bag and handing it to you. “- better start on those chores, hmm?”. you glare at him, scoffing. “you’re joking.” you retort. he just shakes his head.

“i’m here for a reason, darlin’. best get to work so you can get it over with faster.” he shoves the bag in your arms and you give him your best puppy dog eyes. “c’mon leon. you’re so big and strong, i’m sure you’d get it done a lot faster than me.” you bat your eyelashes at him. he seemed gullible enough to seduce. he just chuckles. “nice try, you’re cute” he says, walking off to leave you to your chores. you groan. “fine…” you mumble, walking off to to collect the chicken eggs.

over an hour later, you lie in the green patch of grass, playing with your nails. pouting that cleaning the coop made you chip one. you’d finished majority of your chores, hoping it was enough to get leon off your back. whenever you’d start to walk away from a task, he’d appear to show you what you did wrong and how to improve. you wanted to punch his pretty face.

you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard a deep voice approach you. “takin’ a break?” he says, standing over you. you sigh, not even bothering to look up at him. “i finished for today. i’ll do the rest tomorrow or something.” you continue playing with your nails, still annoyed.

he crosses his arms over his strong chest. “you’re quite the lazy girl, y'know that?” you just scoff. “whatever, asshole” you spit back.

“you got a bit of a mouth on you, don’t ya’?” he squats down so he’s level with you. you finally turn to him, glaring. you angrily stand up, dusting yourself off before gasping. “fuck!” you yell, looking down. your favorite skirt had stains of grass and dirt on them. you didn’t realize the grass was wet before you sat down on it. “are you serious?! this is so gross!” you try wiping the stains off, but only making it worse by spreading them around. you notice leon laughing at you. you turn to glare daggers at the now standing man.

“what the hell is so funny?” your face has annoyance all over it.

“c’mon, let me help you get those stains out, sweetheart. wouldn’t want such a pretty skirt to be ruined” he starts to walk twords the guest house.

“i’m not your-“

“you want that skirt clean or not?” he sighs. you silently nod, following behind him. he opens the door to the clean little house, holding it open for you and shutting it once you were both inside. it was surely nicer than the place you were staying in. a big bed against the wall and a little kitchen table. you remembered staying in here with your father when you visited as a kid. you loved it here back then.

he sets his hat on the counter, finally giving you a full view of his parted hair. he was even more handsome without the hat. he caught you staring and you quickly look away.

“gotta' take the skirt off so i can run it in the wash for you before the stains seep in.” he says, leaning against the counter with his large arms crossed over his broad chest. your eyebrow quirks. “um, i’m not doing that”. he gives you a questioning look. “i’m not wearing anything under…” you add. you only wore your panties under, not wanting to ruin the outfit with ugly shorts. he sighs. a thought flickers in his mind of you taking your skirt off, your pretty ass on display for him.

“fine. you can borrow some of my sweats.” he walks over to his bag of clothes, rummaging through until he pulls out a pair of plaid blue pajama pants. you scoff. “these are ugly as fuck, this is gonna ruin my outfit.” you hold up the pants. they were way too big for you. but they smelled like him. woodsy and a hint of pine. he steps a little closer to you. “if you’d rather let that pretty little skirt get ruined, then be my guest.” he says. you have to crane your neck to look up at him. you sigh, taking your shoes off. “you could just change in the bathroom, you know.” he comments.

“well you could also just look away, pervert.” you say, carefully setting your boots on the floor. he puts his hands up in defense, turning and walks somewhere across the room. “y’know, some day that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.” his voice is lower now, more serious than before. you roll your eyes, shimmying yourself out of your little skirt. “fuck off. you’re not my father.” you bite back, pulling the loose pants over your hips. “these are too big…” you say, holding the pants up or else they’d fall to the ground. he turns and walks up to you, inches away. he grabs the drawstrings, tightening them so hard that you let out a barely audible gasp.

your eye’s focus on his hands. the way they tied the strings perfectly, patting your hip once he finished. “better now?” he asks, looking down at you. you didn’t say a word, just nodding. he smiles. “no words for me from the mouthy girl?” he says. you huff.

“you don’t know anything about me, leon.”

“i know enough. i know you’re an entitled little brat who needs to be put in her place.” he whispered, leaning into your ear. his hot breath left chills down your neck. you could feel your nipples harden against your top. his arms trapped you against the counter.

your eyes finally pull to his, almost magnetically. “what’s your story then, pretty? refusing to work so your daddy kicked you out?” he guesses. you stay silent. he was right.

“what happened to that little mouth of yours? got nothin’ to say now?” he teases, leaning twords your face. fuck, he knew how to shut you up.

“you- i-“ you stutter, unable to respond. he just smirks. his hand slipping to your waist. “you talk all this shit, but can’t handle it comin’ back to you, can you?” god it was almost like he was getting off on seeing your flustered face.

“fuck you-“

“watch your fucking mouth, princess” he practically growls. his grip on your waist only tightens, making you almost whine. his demeanor completely changing from his lighthearted charming self. you felt yourself getting wet from his words alone.

“or what?” you spit back.

“you wanna find out?”

that’s how you ended up with your shaky knees, pressed against the hardwood floor, leon’s big veiny cock sitting right in front of your eyes. his hand was in your hair as your hands nervously reach out to stroke him. he could tell you were inexperienced.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, looking down at you as your small hand wraps around the base of his large cock.

“i don’t- i’ve never-“

“never had a cock in your mouth?” he asks. you just shake your head nervously. he pulsed at the thought of being the first man to be inside of you.

“ever even kissed someone?” he tilts his head.

“just once…” you pout. you were getting tired of his teasing. he just gives your hair a light tug, making you whine. he uses his other hand to bring his thumb to your bottom, dragging it down. you respond, opening your mouth to suck on his thumb. he presses it into your tongue, you swirl your wet muscle around his finger. “good job, see? you got it” he encourages. he removes his thumb, a trail of spit between your lips and his finger.

“now just open your pretty lips…” his hand cups your jaw, you open your mouth. he slides the tip into your hot mouth before hissing. “no teeth, darlin’.” he warns. you nod, taking him deeper. only halfway in and you’re choking around him. he groans at the way your throat contracts around him.

“fuck, you’re a natural slut, aren’t ya?” he grips your hair, moving you up and down his cock. you whine around him, the vibrations sending more pleasure straight to his dick. he abuses your throat and mouth, watching you as tears well up in your eyes. “look at you. your mouth is so much better around my cock.” he lets out another groan when you suck your cheeks in, sucking him off completely.

“think you can swallow all my cum? or are you too good for that, princess?” his voice was horse and low. you just nod, a tear falling from how deep you were taking him. he curses as his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting his hips to meet with your head. your nose burried in the base of his pelvis. you shut your eyes tight as you feel his warm release down your throat. after a few more thrusts, he pulls out a bit of a mix of cum and spit falling from your mouth. he cups your face. “swallow it.” you gulp, licking your lips and swallowing everything he gave you. you open your mouth to show him.

“such a good little slut, yeah?” he soothes your hair, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes. your cunt was throbbing with need. you look up at him through wet lashes, your mascara was probably running down your face by now. he grabs your arm to help you stand up. your legs were wobbly and hard to stand on. your panties were probably soaked at this point.

your eyes go to his lips and his smug gorgeous face. “you want a kiss?” he asks, you nod. he just chuckles. “too bad” he says, making you whine.

“leonn” you grab onto his shirt, pleading. he just shakes his head. “you need to learn how to be patient, gorgeous.” he warns, grabbing your wrists. “you and that fucking attitude. gotta do somethin’ about that.” his eyes grow darker.

he had a strong grip on your wrists, firm but gentle enough not to break you. it made you shiver knowing how easily he could. fuck it was hot. “i’m gonna fuck it right out of you. got that?” his head lowers to suck marks into your neck and collar bones, making you groan. he bit down in a particularly sensitive spot, making you cry out his name. he pulls away dragging you to the bed. “lay down on your stomach” he commands. your eyes grow wide, about to object until his brows furrow. you lie down on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge.

you turn to look at leon over your shoulder, yelping when he drags you so your legs hung off the edge of the bed. he quickly pulls the string of your his pants before ripping them down your legs. you gasp at the cold air hitting your bare legs, your panty clad ass on display for him. he gives it a good smack, making you give another yelp into the sheets.

“you’re fuckin’ soaked through your panties. i’ve barely even touched you” he gives a small laugh before pulling your white panties off. his large skilled fingers run through your folds, making you squirm.

smack

“stop moving”

he admired the large hand print he left on your ass, feeling his dick harden again. he started with pumping one finger into your tight little hole, making you gasp. it hurt for the first few seconds, but eventually faded into throbbing pleasure. you let out mewls of enjoyment, crying out into the sheets below you as he jackhammered his finger into your sopping cunt, adding another finger to stretch you out.

“ohmygod leon!” you cry, muffled by the blanket. you’d never felt absolute overwhelming pleasure like this before. it was fucking addicting.

his fingers curled inside of you, hitting a spot that made your belly fill with a hot pleasure. you were so close, so fucking close. right when you were about to cum, he pulls his fingers out.

“leon!” you yell, looking back at him.

“told you i was gonna teach you how to be patient, didn’t i?” you wanted to wipe that smug ass smirk off his face.

you were practically drooling onto the sheets. tears falling down your face as leon edged you for the fifth, sixth time? you’d lost count after the third. “fuck leon! please please please let me cum, m’so close please!” you cry into the bed, resorting to begging. your attitude thrown out the window whenever he curls his fingers inside of you.

“since you asked so nicely…” his thrusts his fingers at a delicious speed, fucking you until you cried out his name. you clenched around his fingers, gripping onto the sheets as your vision blurs. his fingers fuck into you as you cum, coating the sheets and his hand.

“look at you. fuckin' dripping down my wrist.” he groans. he flips you so you’re on your back. you were panting, mascara completely running down your cheeks and a fucked out look on your face. he brings his fingers to your mouth and you immediately open them for him, licking yourself clean off his hand.

“that’s my girl” he praises, making you tingle. you were still coming down from your high, staring at him blissfully. his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. you watch his expression through your lashes.

“you’re so much prettier with your mouth filled.” he smiles, leaning over you. “i think you deserve that kiss now, don’t ya think so?” he asks. you nod. “yes please”

his mouth meets yours in a hot feverish kiss. his hand coming to grip your hair. he bites your lip hard enough to make you gasp. your pussy throbs with need of being filled by him. “leon, please” you beg through the kiss. he pulls away, looking at you.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he kisses down your jaw.

“i-i need you inside, please!” you beg, looking down at your bare cunt.

“aww, you just want my cock so bad, hmm? who am i to deny such a slutty girl what she wants.” he sits up, dragging his long cock up and down your wet folds. when his head caught on your clit, it made you shiver. he teases you, catching his tip on your hole before rubbing up and down again. you whine. he gives you a stern look.

“m’sorry” you pout. he chuckles, slowly dipping his thick head into your tight hole. he eased himself in, making your jaw slack open. once he was fully seated into you, your brows furrowed at the stretch. “hurts, s’too big!” you cry out. he tsks.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he pulls out just to push himself back into you with a powerful thrust. “fuck, you’re sucking me in, baby. must be so worked up. is this why you’re such a bitch all the time? never gotten dicked down properly?” he teases as he thrusts in and out of your abused pussy.

you mewl when his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, but it wasn’t enough. he sensed your need, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders to thrust even deeper into you. the angle made you scream out. your fingers grip into the sheets again. one of his hands find your clit, pinching it.

“y’feel so fucking perfect. like you were made for me.” he groans, loosing his composure. his thrusts got more intense, faster, and sloppier. but still felt heavenly. the mix of his cock hitting your soft spot along with him playing with your clit, you squeeze around his cock, about to cum. drool fell from the corner of your mouth as your tits bounced in your shirt as you came closer and closer to the edge.

“gonna-gonna cum!” you scream. he only goes faster.

“gonna cum with you, baby. bein’ so fucking good for me.” he gets more vocal when he’s closer to cuming. he didn’t know what felt better, your hot mouth or your hot tight pussy. there was sweat dripping down his neck. you wanted nothing more than to lick it up, but didn’t dare move in fear of him not letting you cum. he was in full control. with a few final thrusts, you finish around him with a loud moan. he follows suit, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

you are both panting at this point, but he’s still half hard inside of you. you look at him with heavy, confused eyes when he doesn't make a move to pull out.

“oh, we’re not done until you’re begging me to stop, pretty girl.”

“wow! this place looks amazing! you guys did a great job around the farm!” your grandma smiles at the handsome young man. he gives her his classic innocent charming smile.

“can’t take all the credit, m’aam. your granddaughter did most of the work.” his strong hands rested at his hips.

“how in the world did you get her to do that!?”

you watch from the porch, wearing a sweater to cover all the marks leon had given you. everytime you’d complain about a task, he’d bend you over and fuck you until you were crying for him to stop at the overstimulation.

the older woman called you over to have you help with leon’s bag. you sigh, walking over as she walked away to talk to her husband.

“you still never gave me my panties back…” you lean against his truck, looking up at him. he chuckles, running a hand down your arm.

“think of it as your parting gift to me, darlin’” he says, giving your arm a squeeze before shouting a goodbye to your grandparents and giving you one last wink and a tilt of his hat before stepping into his truck.

maybe this town isn’t too bad….

masterlist

a/n: i got a little carried away with this i just loveddd this prompt. tysm for this request!!!

#x reader #reader insert #smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #re4 leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy fanfiction

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mira-wooster · 3 months

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#i saw this book in another country #book cover #books #vladimir propp

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

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il/licit

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, unprotected p in v sex, drug dealer!reader and drug dealer!rafe, brief mention of death, marriage, pills

“so proud of you baby.” you press your lips against rafes, smiles barely dropping off either of your faces to kiss.

“thank you princess.” rafe says, giving you another peck before walking to accept his trophy and prize.

when the local country club started their private golf competition, you encouraged rafe to join, never expecting that he would win the whole thing, but he had a perfect game, all the conditions falling into the right place to bring him to the top of the leaderboard.

you watch with pride in your eyes as rafe takes various pictures with the president of the country club, someone of the wives of the other players, all elite members in the country club and prominent business figures in the outer banks, congratulating you with a pat on the shoulder.

you take in the situation as the sun beats down on your face, an idea sparking.

it's not until a week later that you bring it up to rafe, not wanting to spoil his win by admitting while he posed with his trophy that you were forming a plan.

“i think we should legitimize. get away from selling to teens and work upwards. you know all those housewives have pill addictions already, we could become their suppliers, and then you'll have an in with their husbands.” you explain to rafe, hands gesturing as you continue your already thought out plan, a look of genuine interest on rafes face.

“can your supplier get those kind of pills?” rafe asks. he figures you'd already inquired.

“yeah. for cheap as shit too. this is better than coke and weed, rafe.” you finally sit down, having begun pacing like you always do when explaining a plan to rafe.

“then let's do it baby.” rafe nods.

you met through dealing, having sidestepped barry to deal directly with rafe when you saw his potential to reach a whole new higher class kook market, never expecting to fall in love with him at the same time, but you made the ultimate power couple, you supply, rafe deals, you both get paid.

“have you found your first mark?” rafe whispers in your ear, seeing the familiar look in your eyes as you scan the crowd.

“notice how mrs mitchell keeps sneaking off? she hates these types of events, shes popping pills just to keep herself from freaking out.” you whisper back, eyes on the woman as she begins to sway again, a telltale time it's ready for her to sneak away and down more pills from the tiny container in her purse.

you smirk as she excuses herself, just as you predicted.

“be right back.” you take a deep breath before walking away from rafe, a comforting squeeze of your waist in encouragement before you go.

you follow her towards the restroom before she ducks into a hallway. you round the corner just as she's digging into her purse.

“you know, if you had something stronger you wouldn't have to take so many.” your voice ringing out makes her jump, snapping her purse closed.

you don't give her time to react, pulling the bottle of pills out of your own purse. you hand it over, a cautious look on mrs. mitchells face as she takes them out of your hand, reading the label. it's the same drug she's already taking, just as a much higher dosage. you got the scoop by plying one of the other members of her book club with drinks at the country club until she spilled.

“how much?” mrs. mitchell asks, and you smile, glad she's not stupid, but it's why you chose her as the first.

“you owe me nothing for this bottle. just spread the word. ive got better than whoever is currently supplying you. get the word around and there will be more where that came from.” you glance to the bottle in her hand before leaving her to swallow her pills by herself. you already know who her dealer is of course, a crooked pharmacist who writes fake prescriptions, but has to keep them in extremely low doses to not rouse any suspicions.

you enter back into the main ballroom, quickly finding rafe chatting to one of the businessmen in town. you stride up, politely introducing yourself are rafe wraps his arm around your waist, well aware that some of the older men may look at you with a predatory gaze and not wanting them to get the wrong impression that you were open to any advances.

“how did it go?” rafe whispers when you get a moment alone.

“good.” you glance at mrs. mitchell through the crowd, her eyes glossed over but relaxed. “she’s gonna get the word out. we’re on our way up, rafe.”

“you look so hot.” rafe groans, pressing kisses to your neck as you finish adjusting your dress in the mirror.

“too hot? should i change? it is just bookclub.” you sigh. when mrs. mitchell invited you to join her bookclub, you knew exactly what she was really asking you there for, especially when she slipped you a piece of paper with names and preferred drugs.

“nah, very respectable.” rafe says, reaching around you to do up one of the buttons on the top of the dress, covering up more of your cleavage.

“we should be thinking about next steps. once i have the in with the housewives, whats the next play?” you question, more thinking out loud than anything else, not expecting rafe to have a solid plan yet.

“cameron developments. ward left it to me.” your hands pause over smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you turn to face rafe. he hasn’t spoken to you about his deceased father much, all you know is that he died in a different country and that it was tragic. you never wanted to pry, but couldn’t resist googling a bit about ward cameron, and the business he used to run.

“are you sure baby? we can start our own thing.” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body to his as a physical comfort. rafe puts on a strong face, but you know sometimes he needs it.

“its already established, has all the proper documentation since we are trying to get more legit. we could always rename it cameron and y/l/n developments though.” rafe smirks.

“what, you don’t want me to take your last name?” you raise an eyebrow.

you can see the surprise on rafes face. you’ve never spoken about marriage before, but you’ve been together for a long time now and are clearly planning for the future as a couple.

“i always thought you were more traditional than that, rafe. i guess i could hyphenate.” you hum, but rafe aggressively shakes his head.

“no, baby, i’m making you mine. all the way.” rafe presses your back against the mirror as his lips find yours, glad that you’re just wearing a clear lip gloss as he makes a mess of your mouth.

“mmm.” you hum, pushing at rafes chest. “can’t be late. would look bad.”

rafe groans, but he knows you’re right, knows you need to give a good impression to all the prominent book club members. “i’ll drive you.”

you nod, grabbing your purse, the one with a hidden compartment in the lining where you’re hiding all the drugs you’re going to distribute, but you’re not worried, not when one of the women is the wife of the police commissioner.

“you know, it would also look really good to everyone else if we got married. seems so silly to say boyfriend and girlfriend when we are surrounded by all these old married couples.” you tell rafe as he drives you towards mrs. mitchells house.

“baby girl, you don’t have to convince me to marry you.” rafe says, looping your fingers together. “i’ve already been looking for a ring.”

“why are half the people you're inviting to the wedding old as hell?” your friend asks as she helps you sort through wedding invitation envelopes, somehow able to stay blissfully unaware of the fact that you are not just a drug dealer but the most prolific one on the island and are working your way up.

“it’s important now that rafe is restarting cameron developments that we stay on their good side. it’s respectful to invite them.” you explain with a shrug. you never idealized weddings, didn’t really have any grandiose ideas for it, and you never thought you’d feel the excitement about getting married like you feel now that you’re with rafe.

“i guess.” she shrugs. “i just don’t want them to be boring.” “boring?” rafe calls out, entering into the dining room, the entire table covered with envelopes and pieces of paper. “is any party we throw ever boring?” he questions, making your friend shake her head and giggle as rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“how is planning going?” he questions, rubbing his thumbs over your shoulders, glad that you haven’t seem too stressed, trying to manage a wedding along with everything else under your belt.

“really good.” you admit. “although i still haven’t chosen a dress.” “budget is no issue, you know that right?” rafe says. he knows you grew up struggling, which is why you turned towards dealing in the first place, but the money is flowing now, not just from the pills you’ve been pushing towards the upper crust, but from cameron developments getting started again.

“i know.” you sigh, grabbing your binder filled with printed out pictures of wedding dresses you like as inspiration. “i just feel like i want so many different things. i think i might do one dress for the ceremony and another for the reception.”

“you’ll look beautiful no matter what.” rafe says, bending down to press a kiss into your hair, pretending to nuzzle into your side as he whispers. “mr. johnson talked to me at the country club today. his wife has some friends who want the same shit she’s on.”

rafe straightens out, glancing over to your friend to make sure she didn’t hear anything before pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “have fun, ladies.”

“mrs. cameron.” rafe says, hands rubbing over the sole of your foot after he took your heels off for you, sat on the edge of the bed in your reception dress.

“husband.” you coo back, eyes fluttering closed, partly from the exhaustion of the party, partly from how good it felt to have rafe rubbing your sore feet.

“wife.” rafe leans forward, kissing your shin before moving upward, head hidden under the skirt of the dress as he pushes your thighs apart. his teeth bite down on your garter before tugging it off, flinging it away before standing, tugging at his tie.

you reach behind yourself to work on undoing your dress as you watch rafe undress, baring his muscles to you. “i almost don’t want you to take the dress off. you look so beautiful.” rafe says as you work the dress off of your shoulders before standing up and letting it drop to the floor.

“mmm, thank you baby.” you press your lips against his, pushing his hands away as you undo his pants and push them down his legs along with his underwear. “you’re gonna have to help me get the bobby pins out of my hair before we go to sleep.” you giggle, hair pinned up with a few face framing curls falling free.

“can i help you out of this lingerie first?” rafe asks, rubbing the white lace covering your skin.

“of course you can, husband.” you use the name again, so glowing from the day that you don’t even think about all the pills you have to distribute, or that cameron developments is acquiring some land next week. it’s just you and rafe in your honeymoon suite.

rafe works his hands carefully over the lingerie, for once being patient and not just ripping it off of you. when you are finally completely bare for him, he helps you lay back on the bed, taking a second to pause and look at you lying there, shiny diamond on your finger.

“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” rafe says honestly. he’s sure if it wasn’t for you he would still be getting drunk or high every night, and low level dealing at house parties.

“i can’t take all the credit.” you hum. “we make a great team.” “forever and ever.” rafe says, draping himself over your body as his hand laces with yours, feeling your ring against his fingers.

you spread your legs before wrapping them around his waist, raising your hips as your cunt rubs over his length teasingly.

“forever and ever, husband.” you nod to confirm, pressing your lips against rafes as he sinks inside of you.

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 4 months

Text

White Rabbit

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)

Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤

Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.

“Hey, you got my shit?”

“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.

“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.

“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”

“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”

“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.

“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”

“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”

“John B is fucking back.”

“John B is fucking dead dude.”

“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”

“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”

Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.

“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.

“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“

“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.

“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.

“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”

There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”

“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.

“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.

When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.

“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.

“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”

“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.

“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.

“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.

“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”

“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.

“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.

“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.

“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.

“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”

Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.

“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.

“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Wha-? Think about what?”

“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”

“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.

You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.

You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.

“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.

“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.

“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”

“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.

“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.

“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.

“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.

“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.

“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”

“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.

“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.

“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.

“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”

Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.

“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.

“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.

“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”

“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.

“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”

“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.

“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.

“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.

“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.

“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”

“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”

Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”

“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”

“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”

“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.

“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”

“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.

“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.

“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”

This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.

“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”

“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”

“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.

“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”

Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.

“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.

You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.

“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.

“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.

“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.

“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.

“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”

“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.

“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.

“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.

“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.

“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.

“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.

“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.

“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”

“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”

“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.

“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”

You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.

“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.

“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”

You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.

“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”

You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.

“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”

So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.

“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”

He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.

“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”

He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.

“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.

“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.

“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”

“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“

Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.

“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.

“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”

“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”

His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.

“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.

“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That’s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.

“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”

“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.

“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”

You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.

Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤

#rafe Cameron #rafe OBX #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Dolly writes

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