18+ Big scary men who let you slap them during sex.
He’s massive beneath you — broad chest, thick arms, powerful thighs that could easily pin you down if he wanted. But right now he’s on his back, letting you ride him however you want. His hands rest on your hips, not guiding, just holding you steady as you sink down on him.
You lean forward, bracing one hand on his chest, and bring the other down hard across his cheek. The sound is sharp. His head snaps to the side with the force of it. A low, guttural groan rumbles out of his chest as he twitches hard inside you. “Fuck… do it again,” he rasps, voice wrecked.
You slap him again, harder this time, watching the way his eyes flutter and his jaw clenches. His hips buck up sharply, driving deeper into you. The sting on his cheek blooms red against his flushed skin, but he doesn’t stop you. If anything, he looks drunk on it. “Harder, baby,” he begs, voice hoarse. “I can take it.”
You ride him faster, grinding down on him while you slap him again and again. Each hit makes him groan louder, his grip on your hips tightening as he lets you use him. His eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, dark and hazy with lust.
When you finally come, clenching hard around him, you slap him one last time, right as your orgasm hits. That’s what breaks him. He groans deep and filthy, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, thick and hot, pulsing with every slap you land.
Afterward, he’s breathing hard, cheek bright red, but he pulls you down against his chest and kisses you soft and attentively. His hand strokes your back gently, almost apologetically, like he’s the one who should be sorry.
“Again next time?” he murmurs against your lips, voice still rough.
You smile and kiss the reddened mark on his cheek.
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lewd curiosity floats around in your head for a longgg while, until it comes bubbling out as a fast spoken:
"babe, how many bodies do you have?"
his face scrunches in immediate confusion, and slight worry. "pardon?" he glances your way. "like skeletons in my closet?"
"no, no. like how many people have you slept with?" you say it so plainly his eyes widen.
"well… uhm." soon heat rushes to his ears. "you sure you wanna hear somethin' like that, sweetheart?"
nodding, you scoot closer to him on the sofa. "uh huh." at your quick reply, he rubs the back of his neck while looking off at nothing in particular.
he's not too sure about this; doesn't wanna make you uncomfortable or jealous. but he sees the expectant look in your eye that tells him you won't let this go. not anytime soon.
"i'm not all too sure, honey.."
"thats fine," you wave a dismissive hand. "i don't need exact, silly. just a ballpark."
what do you even need this for...? he rubs his hands on his thighs. "maybe around… 12?" he grimaces internally right after saying it. it sounds worse outloud. he glances up at your face again.
"hmm…"
he shifts his weight on the sofa; feeling a bit more antsy now. "what's that 'hmm' for, sweetheart..?"
"thinkin'." plainly said. he feels a slight anxiousness wondering what's going on in your mind. it's probably nothing good.
his hand comes to settle atop your own, just barely there. if you are overthinking, he'd like to shut that down immediately. "they weren't anywhere near as important to me as you are, honey."
you nod along, still lost in your thoughts, lips pursing on a thought stuck in your head. you're eerily silent and it's starting to eat him up. he reaches out and touches your cheek to draw your attention.
your eyes find his softened ones. "yes?"
"y'been real quiet." he brushes his thumb along your jaw. "wanna tell me what's on your mind?"
"mm…" you shrug. "well, was just trying to guess how many of those twelve people had a fat ass. statistically, it was at least one, right?"
his eyes grow so wide they practically pop out his head. heat zings far and wide across his body, face flushing a deep shade. "the mouth on you, honey, i swear!"
"it's an honest question!" so much excitement in your eyes and tone; he doesn't know what to think. "you're always slapping me on the ass, saying it's so fun to squeeze and grab; so process of elimination–"
a hand is gently, but firmly, set across your mouth–effectively stopping your rambles. he can feel the growing pout on your lips under his palm.
"okay enough of your hypothesis. you can go back to being quiet now, pervert."
you quickly slap his hand away. "hey!" you're pushing up imaginary glasses. "perverse or not, this is important research."
a/n: as a non-monogamous person myself, i dont rlly get jealous often, if ever. so wanted to write something silly with the body count premise. also, inspired by this post ! i obvi went in a completely different direction than what i was inspired by, but i still like to link my inspos („• ֊ •„)
These works have all been posted on my AO3 and I've decided to post links to each and every post here. Read my tags and INFO HERE for more information.
I do take requests for oneshots!
╰➛ SERIES
All of my finished Series with Plot; Please read the tags on each work!
My AO3 <- here!
GENSHIN IMPACT:
𐙚 Dangerous Entanglement - Info Here
You were just eight when you found out you were special yet cursed. not one, not two but three? From Snezhnaya? You must be a joke!
SOULMATES AU ( Reader x Pantalone, Capitano, Dottore)
𐙚 Forgive But Not Forget
Reader accidentally betrays Celestia, gets thrown out and gets found by Dottore who is obviously intrigued by the fact that the reader is definitely not human.
(Reader x Pantalone, Dottore)
𐙚 A Foolish Fatuus in the opera's grip
Your shaking form kneels before the Chief of Justice, begging to be let go. declared an enemy of the region and now the warden locks any door behind you, ready to break your shield of stone, revealing a perfect gem. And now Perhaps your new mentioned dirty injuries gave the warden a new idea.
( Reader x Neuvillette, Wriothesley)
𐙚 Up to the test
Aka reader gets isekai'd into genshin impact, works for the tenryou commission for a little bit and climbs the ranks then gets moved to snezhnaya to work with the fatui
( Reader x Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano)
𐙚 To try my hardest
Continuation of UP TO THE TEST
(Reader x Capitano, Dottore)
𐙚 Echoes of Deception - Info here
Your escape plan didn't work as it was supposed to, now your curiosity cost you your position and the trust of the one and only Il Capitano. Perhaps the contract you signed will not only serve as a new beginning but also as the road to regaining his trust.
(Capitano x AFAB! Reader)
-
HONKAI STAR RAIL
𐙚 Finding Yourself:
Perhaps you had never thought you'd be ending up just where you promised yourself you'd be running away from, and with a bit of help you remembered who you used to be and the major role you held. And perhaps the relationships you had lost could be regained, somehow at least.
AFTER the Xianzhou Luofu Trailblazer mission
( Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade x Reader)
All of my oneshots and so on some with plot some not, Read tags!
NSFW & SFW!
GENSHIN IMPACT:
𐙚 Genshin Impact men x Reader:
Various character x reader + thirsts. some have smut some have mentions of explicit content some are just fluff
𐙚 Behind the prison's office doors:
Fluff! Nothing's like having to waddle through the pouring rain to work just to be greeted by your lover, unaware of the conditions outside due to being locked inside his office.
(Wriothesley x Reader)
𐙚 Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Don't cry!
Fluff! After a while it had all clicked, the rain was pouring, thunder crackling through the air. Rushing back inside, behind his desk sat the hydro dragon, sobbing loudly.
AU! Reader travels alongside Lumine & Paimon
(Neuvillette x Reader)
𐙚 Fontaline Dragon Meeting:
childe forms a plan to get to the gnosis, fails, has to go thru a trial, his fontaine arrival reaches zhongli, he appears, then childe (again) sleeps his way to the gnosis.
(Zhongli, Neuvillette x Childe)
𐙚 Genshin & Honkai drabbles:
Various character x Reader Fics and ideas I produce along the way and have no idea what to do with, Short & simple.
𐙚 Knowing when to stop:
Fluff! Pierro overworks himself again so you take his place for a day, doing the exact same thing as him in the end.
(Pierro x Reader)
-
HONKAI STAR RAIL:
𐙚 Bound for eternity:
You get off of work, tired, spot march on the street want to return her hairclip but get dragged along to a pub
you meet your soulmate after years of waiting
you decide to drag him to your home after meeting him
(Boothill x Reader)
𐙚 Genshin & Honkai drabbles:
Various character x Reader Fics and ideas I produce along the way and have no idea what to do with, Short & simple.
𐙚 Pretty reunion, Ugly past:
Reader has some unsolved problems w blade while working for the Cloud Knights, finds it all too much, leaves everything behind and runs away with the Astral express then returns a decade later and is greeted with a pissy Blade and a warmly (not really) welcoming Jing Yuan
(Reader x Blade, Jing Yuan)
OTHER FANDOMS/MULTI FANDOM:
Multi fandom x Reader:
Various character x reader oneshots from the next few games/shows:
- Demon slayer:
(Tengen, Rengoku x Reader)
- Jujutsu Kaisen:
(Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Toji x Reader)
- Seraph of the end:
(Crowley, Ferid, Guren, Higari x Reader)
- Honkai Star Rail:
(Blade, Jing Yuan, Luocha x Reader)
- Gangsta:
(Worick, Nicolas x Reader)
- Genshin Impact:
(Dottore, Capitano, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham x Reader)
- Bungo Stray Dogs:
(Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Odasaku x Reader)
- Spider-Man: Spider-Verse:
(Miguel O'Hara x Reader)
- Call of Duty:
(König, Simon ghost Riley x Reader)
The low hum of the bar faded into the background as he guided you toward the pool table in the back corner. Dim lights cast a golden glow over the green felt, and the clack of balls from other tables seemed distant now. "Here," he murmured, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down earlier, exposing strong forearms corded with muscle and faint veins that flexed as he picked up a cue. The fabric strained slightly over his shoulders, and you tried not to stare.
You gripped the cue awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he stood behind you. “I’ve never been good at this.”
“That’s why I’m teaching you, sweetheart.” His chest brushed your back as he leaned in, one hand settling lightly on your hip to adjust your stance. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress. “Bend forward a little more.” You did, feeling the cool edge of the table against your hips. He stepped in fully then, his body molding against yours from behind in one fluid motion. Tall, solid, and far too warm.
“Like this,” he whispered. His breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver racing down your spine. You could smell his cologne; something dark and woody that made your head feel fuzzy. His fingers slid down your arm, wrapping around your hand on the cue to correct your grip. His thumb stroked once along the side of your wrist, almost absentmindedly, but the way your breath hitched told him everything.
“Eyes on the cue ball,” he continued, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Not the pocket yet. You need to feel the angle first.” His other hand moved to your shoulder, pressing you gently into the proper form. You were caged between his arms now, trapped in the most delicious way possible. Every small shift of his body against yours sent sparks through you, the hard plane of his chest, the subtle flex of his thighs behind yours.
You tried to focus on the shot, but all you could think about was how perfectly he fit against you, how his breath kept teasing your neck with every instruction, warm and ragged like he was fighting the same tension you were. “Relax,” he said huskily, his mouth hovering just below your ear. “You’re too tense. Let me help.”
He adjusted your elbow, his fingers lingering far longer than necessary, tracing down to your wrist again. When you finally took the shot, the cue ball struck with a sharp crack, but you barely noticed where it went. All you registered was the way his grip tightened on your hip as he praised you softly. “There you go, baby, you're a natural.”
The words hit low in your stomach. You straightened up slowly, turning in the small space he allowed you. His eyes were dark, locked on your lips for a beat too long before flicking back up. “Again?” he asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk that promised much more than another lesson.
You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “Yeah… I think I need a lot more practice.”
a/n: i saw a video on tiktok about this and had to write it lol
Maybe it was because they happened when neither of you were trying. Just two people still caught somewhere between dreams and reality, reaching for each other on instinct alone. He always kissed you differently when he was sleepy. Slower. Softer. Like even half-asleep, his body knew where home was.
Sometimes it happened before sunrise, when the room was still painted blue with early morning light and the world outside hadn’t fully woken up yet. You’d stir beneath the blankets, feeling the warmth of him shift beside you before sleepy hands found your waist beneath one of his old t-shirts. Just to keep you close.
You’d barely have your eyes open when his nose brushed yours, as he pressed a lazy kiss to your mouth. It never lasted long, just a gentle press of lips that felt more like a habit than anything else, like he couldn’t start his day without making sure you were still there. And every single time, you’d smile into it.
Sleepy kisses were honest. No one performs when they’re half asleep. There’s no practiced charm, smooth words, no trying to look pretty or flirting. Just tangled blankets, messy hair, pillow creases pressed into skin, and affection in its simplest form.
Some mornings, he’d kiss the corner of your mouth and immediately fall back asleep. Other times, you’d be the one waking first, unable to resist leaning over to press a tiny kiss against his cheek or forehead. He’d hum quietly every time, eyes still closed, already chasing after you before you could pull away.
Like his body recognized yours before his mind had even caught up. “C’mere,” he’d mumble into the pillow, voice rough with sleep. And you always did.
Because there was something impossibly tender about being loved in those in-between moments. The kind of love that lived in drowsy smiles and warm sheets and kisses given so absentmindedly they had become second nature. The kind that said 'I’d find you even in my sleep.'
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content w: 18+ nsfw. mdni. any older!m x f!reader, implied age gap, cockwarming
After what seemed like forever of living together cordially, you finally befriended your older roommate.
Since befriending him, he doesn't seem to mind doing affectionate things with you. Letting you hold his rough hands while watching tv on the couch, borrow books from his bedroom, even wear some of his clothes. You equally share your good detergent, make him a little extra serving when making yourself dinner, and share some music playlists.
A random day, nothing special about it, you both crossed some invisible line. Was never directly said aloud, but the relationship dynamic quietly shifted to something more physical and intimate.
Warm kiss on the lips here, sucking his fingers there. Friend stuff.
Or.. well, you're more friends with benefits than just plain ol' friendly now. Not that you minded.
You don't quite remember when it went from kisses to extreme teasing, but sometimes you'll find yourself wrapped up in his arms after dinner, lying on your side as he spoons from behind. He'll be half-hard, pressing himself against your soft lower body. Wet kisses to your nape and shoulder.
His fingers always slip under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at your nipples in a slow rhythm—as if it's just what he needs to lull himself to sleep.
A cozy Sunday comes along and neither one of you have any concrete plans. He mentions reading and working out. You bring up wanting to run errands and buy some more sugar. Nothing exciting.
Leading to the intimate scene you find yourself in before you run said errands this afternoon.
You're straddling his waist with his cock comfortably sunk into your heat—cunt twitching and squeezing every so often. He mentioned something about 'building endurance'.. or 'restraint training'. And now you're in his bedroom, trying to learn having the same patience as an older man like him.
Keyword 'trying'. It's difficult to keep your hips still while sitting on a cock that spreads you so wide; fills you up so good. Just a small shift sinks his cock deeper. Little huffs of air and whines escape your lips.
Yet he's relaxed, lying comfortably on his back with his glasses sitting low on his face, reading through... a fishing guide.
He doesn't reach out to settle your hips. Doesn't move his hands to caress your thighs and help soothe. Aside from his deep breathing and brief glances at where you're so deeply connected, you wouldn't be able to tell he's affected by this arrangement.
He turns to the next page in his book, then readjusts his glasses calmly. "Deep breaths, sweetheart." His gaze doesn't even lift from the text as he regards you.
You're letting out another huff, half pleasure, half exasperation. How can he be so indifferent about this? There's a slick mess pooling between you both—sticking to your folds, drooling down his shaft—and he's engrossed with how to tie a lure.
Frustrated in more ways than one, you decidedly start to grind down on top of him needing some type of friction. The feeling is instant, clit bumping against his pelvis–sending heat through your body and pleasure pooling at your center.
It's met with a click of his tongue and a quiet spoken "You're not very good at this, hm?" You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes as he looks up over the rim of his glasses.
Before he can tease you about it any further, you're purposely squeezing around him tight, making his cock twitch and drawing a low hiss through clenched teeth.
"S-Shit." His brows furrow briefly before he schools his expression again. It's the most you've seen his face change all afternoon, and the most vocal you've heard him. You can't help grinning at that.
His hips roll subtly–a quick retaliation–dragging his heavy length further inside, fat tip hitting your sweet spot. You breathe out a needy moan, back arching into a bow and spilling more slick in the process.
He grins. "Keep it up, honey. Almost done." Flips another page in his book while you fight the urge to squirm. This'll be a long hour..
a/n: mostly thought of jack abbot when writing this.. then price.. then joel.. my brain keeps goin 'older man? he must like fishin!'
synopsis: you're everything he wants. and yet, you're never around for long. he'd give you every bit of him; show every inch of his heart... if only you wanted that. wc: 2.8k
cw: 18+ mdni. mostly angst, some smut; f!reader x older m!, implied age gap, flaky!reader, (reader is emotionally unavailable and kinda mean) ((f in male dominated fields!1!)), plot with sprinkle of porn, one sided love, fwb, protected p in v, crying during sex, cowgirl position of doom and despair, no use of y/n
note: fairy's first angst ( ܸ. .)՞ . i saw this post months ago by mintmatcha, n it never left my mind. and then i kept listening to "Only When ur Lonely" by ginuwine, andd.. here we are! i like sad old men okay, sue me.
both of your—other forms of entertainment, lets say–are busy. your favorite one is out of state for a business trip. second favorite isn't free until much later tonight, and you know he'll be sleepy after just one round.
so in the meantime, you text your (admittedly least favorite) older 'friend'. there's nothing inherently wrong with him that sets him so low on your roster. he treats you kindly, is really attractive, has a big—
the problem, is that sometimes you notice his eyes lingering; studying your face in a very specific way. you've seen that look before, the one men give their love interest in cheesy romcoms. like he's mentally planning out the rest of his days with you in them.
and that makes your skin crawl a little. this, whatever this is, is just a fun, casual way to spend your young adult years. so the things he's clearly thinking about–but never says, makes you suppress a shudder whenever you do notice it. at least the sex is great enough to ignore it. for now.
𑣲⋆
there's a warm scent of summer, aftershave, and your vanilla lotion mixed together sweetly in the room. the evening sun is starting to sit low in the sky; casting cozy rays through the window.
you're naked and straddling his waist, finger drawing small shapes on his bare chest, while you idly nibble at what little leftover lipgloss is on your lower lip from kissing so roughly—absentmindedly thinking about what you'll tell your other date later tonight once he sees seed already leaking from your cunt—when you feel a hand gently rub your arm, more hesitant than usual.
suppressing a sigh, you start mentally praying that he doesn't begin what you're dreading. he already seemed a bit.. needy over text.
'haven't heard from you in a while, sweetheart. not avoiding me, are you?'
'it's only been two weeks lol'
'that's a little long for radio silence. what, can't miss my girl?'
his girl. what did he mean by that? you're not in the mood for that conversation. not tonight. you have more pressing matters. like… what lingerie should you wear for your second favorite dilf later? lacy panties? blue maybe? you wore that last time though..
"sweetheart," he says quietly, breaking you from your thoughts, thumb rubbing back and forth over your forearm.
you don't lift your gaze from his chest to look at him, just internally chanting a 'don'tstartdon'tstart–'
"hm?"
his thumb pauses and out comes a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "i've been thinking.. about us."
ugh. not the first time he's said that. but it was at least at dinner the last few times. was easier to shut him up with a mention of drinks, or a menu shoved in his face and a 'okay hold that thought, we should get dessert, yeah?'. no escape this time.
"'m gettin' too old to keep–" he motions between you both with his free hand, "playin' hooky like this. i.. wanna settle down, y'know?"
you feel his eyes studying your face, and yet despite knowing he's watching your reaction, you still cringe a little. reflex.
muttering "that's not even the right term.." you crawl off his lap, much to his dismay—did he upset you somehow?
his hand falls flat on the bed while you turn to swing your legs off the side. "just say hookups. and its not even really hookups, we hang out too." you start staring at the floor. "have you seen my lipgloss?"
"no, i haven't–" he cuts himself off. hang outs? that's what you call him taking you to low candlelit dinners?
he clears his throat. "but wouldn't you like more than just occasional dates– uhm, hangouts..?"
you're up before he can say much else, already looking around for your underwear under the guise of checking for your tube of gloss.
you lift a thrown towel, check behind the tv, open the drawer. you swear fabric shouldn't be this elusive. he's saying something else but you aren't really hearing it. where is your underwear?
"baby." he's exasperated, brows starting to pinch together when you don't answer. "is that really important right now?" he starts peeling the blanket off from around his waist. "i.. i'm tryin' to have a serious discussion with you."
you'd roll your eyes but theres a mirror in front of you, giving a full view of the bed where he sits, still peering at your expression. a mirror facing the bed was such a lovely idea in the moment of sex..
"god, i'm still listening. can't i multitask?" your tone is a little more clipped than you'd meant, but you're starting to feel a bit claustrophobic in here all of a sudden. it's a weird temperature; sweat from your recent coupling is sticking uncomfortably to your skin.. june bugs outside too loud.. tripping over strewn about pillows.. where the hell is your panties?!
he watches you scour the room for another minute before breathing out a deep sigh. he's up and next to you in a few strides, hand reaching out to settle atop your shoulder, a little firmer than his earlier touch.
"that can wait." he sounds more stern than you're used to. he's spinning you around to face him, and all that sternness you suspected disappears when you see he's already gazing into your eyes like a hurt puppy.
"just…" he speaks softer, hoping it'll help ease your nerves some. "let me have your full attention for this, okay?"
you hesitate for a beat before nodding slightly. fingers crossed. 'dontsayit..'
he carefully takes your hand in his. "being with you these past few months has been so good. wonderful." rough thumb rubbing against your knuckle carefully. your fingers twitch involuntarily.
"you're more than just… some fuck buddy i hang out with, baby."
slowly, he guides your hand to his chest to press your palm flat over his heart. you can feel how clammy his skin is, how fast that organ is beating under your hand. "so much more." his eyes bore into yours; hopeful and filled with something else you don't even wanna acknowledge.
everything in you is screaming to move. running outside naked somehow seems better than this. you're not sure what to say, so you stay silent with widened eyes like a deer in headlights. which he takes as a positive sign–somehow–to keep going.
"i.. i want us to be official." he swallows, nervous.
you feel the a strong urge to shake your head vehemently.
his fingers ever so gently tighten around your hand, anchoring himself to this moment with you. when you still don't say anything, he takes a slow, deep inhale and goes to rip off the bandaid. "sweetheart, i'm in l—"
BZZZZZT
BZZZT
your phone on the nightstand starts vibrating, cutting him off and making you blink rapidly–effectively breaking you out of whatever shocked trance you were in. you've never been happier to hear a buzz. you could marry whoever's calling! well… maybe just kiss.
"hold on, 'kay?" you're stepping past him like he wasn't even speaking—laying his heart out for you.
his mouth falls open slightly. shocked that the moment was ruined, but mostly by the fact that you didn't even ignore the call. your ear is pressed to the phone almost instantly, listening intently to whoever's speaking. why couldn't you do that with him..?
he reaches for you again. "baby–" but he's cut off by you going 'shhh', holding up a finger and asking for a minute. a weird mix of shame and hurt starts to settle across his bare skin. he's exposed in more ways than he can count.
to add insult to this extraordinary injury, you're actively getting dressed now and giggling while on the call.
he plops back down onto the mattress with a blank expression, arms resting on his legs as he watches you flit about the room as if he's not there anymore. how many times are you gonna avoid this? sighing, he pulls on his sweatpants.
you flip some of the sheets over, phone tucked between your shoulder and ear while you search around. at this point, he knows you're looking for your underwear, yet you won't say anything. won't ask for help.
but if only you said something. he could've told you he tucked your panties in his pants pocket, way back when undressing you earlier; just wanted something to remind him of you. he can't help missing you when you're away for weeks.
not that he'll tell you now. seems like you're doing anything to avoid conversing with him. avoiding acknowledging what he said before that dumb phone rang.
seemingly haven given up on your search, you breathe out a huff before telling whoever on the phone that you'll 'talk later' and end the call. "ughh, whatever. i'll just buy another one."
well, surely you'll ask him where it is now.
you tuck your phone in the bag slung over your shoulder, bending at the waist to give his cheek a quick peck.
"that was my friend. i'm running a little late for something. we can catch up later, okay?"
he blinks. "wait– what?" you're leaving him. this late. and without panties on. what the fuck?
he gets up from the bed, brows furrowed, looking as if he's about to gain three new wrinkles on his forehead. "with who?"
you accidentally let out a snort at his tone–quickly trying to cover it by clearing your throat. "i said a friend. you wouldn't know if i said a name anyway." you slip your shoes on and head towards the door.
"i'll call whenever i get home." the knob twists in your palm, but you startle a little as a big hand clamps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. you turn to see his jaw clenched tight.
"this fun for you? never communicating with me?" his fingers tighten slightly, feeling your pulse. "were you even listening? you're dodging everything i've said." his eyes bore into your own; unblinking. yet you're finding ways to avoid his gaze again.
"i just.. have other things on my mind–a lot going on. you know that." you don't even fully believe your own words. "plus my ride's already outside. can't we do this another time?"
"and when is that supposed to be? you keep–" he stops and stares for a brief moment, clenching his jaw–before loosening his grip entirely.
a defeated expression sits on his face.
"if you leave, then don't come back."
you finally look up at him, meeting his glare with one of coy indifference. "don't be like that, hun. we got a nice thing going, right?" you murmur, touching his arm and leaning in to kiss at his cheek again, lingering a bit longer than last time.
he doesn't respond and doesn't lean into it. stays stiff as a board, fingers twitching at his sides; fighting the urge to grab you again to keep you here with him. your lips travel along his jaw, mushing little kisses all over until finding his lips. you don't pull away until he reluctantly kisses back, deepening the kiss just enough to keep him wanting.
"i'll see you." you hum, and pat his arm–in a way that felt entirely too friendly for how he feels about you–before you disappear through the door.
his hand drags over his face, pulling down against stubble that scratches against his palm. he feels lightheaded in the worst way. does he even get to feel like this? some.. odd form of jealousy? you two are just casual. 'friends'.
maybe this entire thing was a mistake.
he grabs his phone off the dresser and brings up your contact. theres a sinking feeling in his stomach as his thumb hovers the 'block this contact' popup.
trying his best to stop talking to you cold turkey is infinitely harder than he thought. he keeps thinking of all the time he's spent with you; watching crappy movies in your apartment, all the quiet dinner dates. thinks of how well you fit together. how soft and warm your skin is. your sweet scented lotion.
another deathly quiet, summer night, and nights like this make him think of you the most. he'd take you out to a cozy little restaurant, sing along to songs in the car on the way to his place. kiss your temple. fill you with everything he had. hold you til the next morning when you'd stretch and soon leave with a kiss on his cheek.
he's staring at the ceiling in the dark, the other side of his bed cold and empty. loneliness is clouding his better judgment.
so when his phone inevitably rings well after eleven pm–of course he answers. no one else calls him this late.
which leads to you in his room again, pressed up against his body, whispering honeyed words into his ear that he has a harder and harder time believing the more you say them.
"been too long. i missed you."
"give me another chance."
"let me make it up to you, hm?"
things play out like always. always ends the same. he's a weaker man for you than he thought.
he's met with the familiar sight of you bouncing on top, watching your expression screw into one of blissful pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as his thick length fills you up completely. drags along your walls in a steady, deep rhythm that has you panting out breathy cries and him groaning. you're soon falling over the edge, cumming and whining through your orgasm.
he tries to lose himself in the feeling of your walls hugging him so tight; focuses on the sound of your slick coated thighs coming down to hit his. tries to forget the aching feeling you left him with; the constant second thinking you put him through. there's someone else.. of course theres someone else. why couldn't you have just stayed? is the idea of being with him that terrible..? his eyes start to water despite himself–quickly trying to blink it away.
he chokes your name out through a groan, grabbing your hips tighter as pleasure shoots through his frame. "wanna hear you.. please..."
your hands rest on his chest, chin tucked in as you stare him down, lifting up and down to meet his thrusts. "mmh.. you feel so good.. so deep.."
"fuck, baby.. who's pussy is this?"
you just moan in response, more slick spilling between you both–tightening around his cock and making his breath hitch. but he asks again, breathless.
"a-answer me, sweetheart… who's pussy?"
despite having his cock buried inside–kissing your sweet spot with every wet slam down of your hips—a different man flashes in your mind at the question. reflex. you bite down on your lip, hips faltering briefly.
noticing the shift in your demeanor, his eyes flit open, heavy-lidded and staring up at you with a pleading look. you finally notice the sparkling droplets on his lash-line threatening to fall.
"please.. please tell me, sweetheart." his breathing deepens, his low timbre hushed. don't do this.. don't stay silent. don't make him think about the other men you do this with. he doesn't even care if you lie at this point.
"need to hear it.." his hips roll, pushing his fat tip up against your sensitive spot; drawing a little whine from your lips with each move. "tell me, is it mine..?"
you hesitate, slowly leaning down to let your soft lips touch just below his eye. nodding weakly as you murmur quietly against his cheek. "it's… it's yours.."
he groans, cock throbbing inside of you, twitching with a mind of its own at your barely whispered words. "again." his arms wrap around your body, pulling you down flat against his chest as warm tears finally spill down his cheek. he prays you don't notice. "please. again.."
your lips touch the shell of his ear as you breathe out "..it's yours, honey. always yours." kissing his heated skin in between deep breaths, lightly running your thumb under his eye to collect the little fallen droplet.
he has a full body shudder at your words; using all of his strength to hold back a whimper. holding you tight to his chest, he starts to rut up into you, stretching your slick walls open with each snap of his hips, creating lewd slaps that fill the room. he moves to nip and bite at your shoulder, muffling his shattered moans as he nears his own heavy orgasm.
with one last thrust of his hips, he's tossing his head back against the pillow–seeing stars while spilling deep into the condom. his chest heaves, fingers digging into your sides, holding you tight through the aftershocks as if you'll disappear.
and knowing you, you might. he knows you'll get up to leave soon. maybe for good this time. with your skin pressed to his, your soft breaths panting against his ear, his eyes squeeze shut—fighting to keep the rest of his vulnerability from escaping in rivulets down his face.
a/n: aww he in a situationship with the most avoidant fem ever. he need more than kisses. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) i appreciate all interactions <3 :3
